Rebel
by XSnow LeopardX
Summary: On Planet Vegeta, Pan, a lowclass saiyan, is caught training on royal ground. What kind of trouble will Pan get into when Trunks has to decide what to do with her? What happens when the arrogant Prince needs her help? And when she, his?
1. Pan's Rebellion

Rebel

Chapter 1

Pan's Rebellion

Pan surveyed the seemingly deserted environment, her coal black eyes determined. She wrapped her saiyan tail around her waist, checking the area once more. When she seemed satisfied that no one was around, she began training; punches and kicks thrown in mere seconds.

            She was sick and tired of this stupid law, this stupid rule, saying that females were not allowed to train, not allowed to fight.

            _Not allowed to fight!_ She raged silently. If she didn't train secretly, she didn't know _what_ she'd do. Having no one to spar with, she took her rage out in training. _Female saiyans stay at home?_ She scoffed wordlessly. _It's in our blood to train and fight, not to sit at home and bear children. And I'll be damned if I was one of those females!_

*******

            The Prince of Vegeta sat in his throne, drumming his fingers on the armrest in boredom and a tinge of anger.

            "Prince?" An insignificant soldier asked.

            "What do you want?" the Prince snapped-he was in no mood today to deal with thoughtless soldiers. 

            "Planet Kenosha fairs well, sir," the soldier stammered.

            This was just the news he wanted to hear. "Ahh… good. So it will be captured in a few days?" The soldier nodded. _Good,_ he thought. _We'll be able to hand it over to Lord Frieza soon._ "Dismissed," he said, and the soldier bowed down on one knee.

            He clasped his right fist over his heart, saying, "For the glory of the Vegeta, my Prince."

            "For the glory of Vegeta," the prince mumbled, but his mind was elsewhere. When the soldier was gone from his sights, he stood up and strode down the crimson carpet, his blood-red cape on his shoulders swirling behind him.

            He walked out the double doors that led to the Royal Gardens, and walked down a path, thinking.

            "Planet Kenosha will be captured soon, correct?" a voice asked from behind him. He turned and saw Vegeta standing behind him, his arms crossed in a demanding way.

            "Correct," the Prince answered coolly his eyes cool and confident.

            "Good, we'll hold a banquet in celebration," Vegeta said sarcastically.

            "Might as well," he answered with dry sarcasm.

            "Why? Does 'Prince Trunks' need to find a mate?" Vegeta asked in a mocking tone.

            Trunks glared at him lightly. "No, not for a while," he answered in a soft growl.

            Vegeta chuckled. "Don't take it so hard, boy." He turned, his cape, which recognized him as king, swaying. "We all have to one day, even if we don't want to be paired with such frail, sentimental beings." And with that, he was gone.

            Trunks thought about what he had said- 'frail, sentimental beings.' _That they are,_ he thought._ That they are._

*******

            Pan looked out her window, watching the saiyans running down the street, cheering. "Tousan, what's going on?"

            "The war on Planet Kenosha is over-and if you haven't already guessed-we won," he answered her, peering over her shoulder to watch.

            "Will there be a celebration ceremony?" she questioned.

            "Possibly. But we won't be invited," he answered with a lopsided grin. 

            That was another thing that angered Pan. She was just as good as those 'elite' saiyans, if not better. Why couldn't she go and celebrate? It was her home too. They claimed that the celebration ceremonies were for the good of the Planet Vegeta, but then why wasn't everyone invited? The elites went and celebrated the victory of the hardworking peoples' efforts.

            She faked a grin for her father, but she was determined to change that.

            "So where were you this morning?" he asked suspiciously.

            Pan's mind raced, trying to come up with a good answer. "Well, I was, uh, just… taking a walk." Reality was, she was training.

            "A walk?" he questioned.

            It seemed like a good idea at the time. "Yeah-a walk. I just needed some time to think, that's all," she assured him.

            "Oh." The answer seemed to suite him. When she turned to walk out the door, he asked, "Out for another walk?"

            "Yeah," was her reply, followed by the shutting of the door.

            When Pan was out in the barren wasteland once more, she removed her navy color dress to reveal her training outfit-a tight sleeveless, shirt along with black spandex pants that stopped a little past her knee. She then scanned the land, making sure of no spectators.

            She smirked then began her daily training, dodging and attacking an imaginary foe. After only an hour of training, she suddenly stopped, her body rigid with fear. Shakily she looked to her right, and saw her worst possible fear.

            Guards from the royal house. 

            She froze, unable to move, and could only watch them as they headed her way.

            "Ma'am," said one as he landed beside her, his face grim. "You have violated law 345, and on royal grounds. You'll be coming with us."

            _Royal grounds?! _Pan thought in alarm. She knew she was in for some serious trouble, but she stood proudly, her eyes whirling in unsuppressed anger.

            One guard gripped her arm roughly, and the other did the same to her other arm. "I don't see why," she muttered angrily. "I haven't done anything wrong." She struggled fiercely, the rage almost glowing in her eyes. She didn't raise her power though, because she knew that if she did, she'd be in even more trouble.

            Even though the guards had been trained in the royal house, and their muscles were well toned, they had a hard time of restraining this enraged female saiyan.

            The guards carried her back to the palace, and she held her head proudly against the sneering stares. Pan was abruptly thrown into a chair, the two guards baring the only door in a small, dark questioning room.

**Author's Note: Well, how did ya like the first chapter? The second chapter should be out soon, about one day, so be on the look out!!! Enjoy!!**

**Reviews would be nice!! ^-^**


	2. Pan Be ReadyFor Prince Trunks!

Chapter 2

Pan Be Ready-for Prince Trunks!

            "Who are you?" one snarled.

            "Son Pan," she answered.

            "Son?" the other snickered. "Isn't that the saiyan who's good with technology?"

            Pan's cheeks flushed-she knew that saiyans weren't supposed to be known for their technological skill.

            "What were you doing on royal grounds?" the first one asked.

            "I… didn't know I was on royal grounds," Pan answered truthfully.

            "Sure you didn't," the second guard said sarcastically. She glared at him but said nothing.

            "Let's see what Prince Trunks thinks about it," the first one, the more serious of the two, said.

            The other walked up to her, smirking. He picked up the material of her shirt between his white-gloved fingers. "Where's your dress?" he sneered.

            "Don't need one," she growled in response. She smirked. "Can't train in a dress."

*******

            Prince Trunks sat on his throne, bored as usual. As he saw two soldiers carrying someone his way, his curiosity was peaked. He took his head off of his hand and managed to hide his interest.

            "Prince," they said, bowing low. Their captive, a female, bowed with them, to his amusement.

            He smirked, seeing the captive's angry glare. He nodded for them to stand. "What's this about?" he demanded.

            "She was found training on royal grounds, sir," one said with a smirk.

            Trunks found this amusing. "Really?" he said, drawing out the word.

            Instead of blushing, like Trunks thought she was going to do, she glowered at him. "Yes, I was."

            Trunks glared back at her, not liking being glared at by a low-class female saiyan at all. Surprisingly, her glare didn't falter.

            "Well sir, what should we do with her?" the other soldier asked.

            Prince Trunks was about to send her to the dungeon like he did with the others, but her challenging demeanor amused him. "Who is she?"

            "Son Pan," a soldier answered.

            Trunks chuckled. "Son? Son Gohan, I presume. If you're as good at fighting as your father is at programming, consider yourself the new commander."

            "Looks like I'll be reporting to you soon, then," she said with a smirk and a swish of her tail.

            Trunks was tempted even more now to send her to the dungeons and be done with her, but for one reason or another he didn't. "Put her in one of the questioning rooms. Inform her father; I'll think about her punishment."

            The two soldiers were shocked-Prince Trunks _never_ thought about punishments.

*******

            Pan was once again thrown roughly into a cold dark room.

            "You're lucky," the first one said. "Prince Trunks went easy on you because you're a girl."

            That angered her, her power level sliding up a few notches. Heatedly she answered, "Whatever."

            The two soldiers chuckled, and with a metal clank of the door they were gone, leaving Pan alone.

            Not that she minded. She sighed heavily as she sat down, leaning against the wall. "What is Tousan going to say when he hears about this?" she asked herself. She knew one thing-he wasn't going to like it one bit.

            Her mind drifted off to Trunks. "Why was I spared?" she asked no one, her voiced echoing on the cold, uninviting stone walls, but her question remained unanswered.

*******

            "She _WHAT?!?_" Gohan roared, his arms flailing as he toppled over his chair.

            "She's been taken into the Royal House of Vegeta's custody, sir," the soldier said. "Her punishment is undecided, and our magnificent Prince Trunks has allowed this time for you to come and see her."

            Gohan managed to stand up, rubbing his battered head. "What was she taken in for?"

            "Training on royal grounds, sir."

            Gohan froze. "TRAINING_?!?!?!?_"

            The soldier chuckled slightly. "I thought I'd never see the day."

            "Me either," Gohan mumbled. How in the world did his daughter get into this mess? And more importantly, how was he going to get her out?

**Author's Note: How IS Pan going to get out? I would like to know that too… Sorry the chapter's so short, but I'll update real soon, so don't worry. Remember- Review, please!!**


	3. The Promise

Chapter 3

The Promise

            Gohan followed the soldier numbly through the palace. _I should have known,_ he thought. _Whenever I talked about training procedures she didn't-she_ shouldn't-_know about, she always had that glint in her eyes. She only has that glint in her eyes when she knows something I don't. She pretended that she didn't know what I was talking about, but she did. She did! I should have known! When she was younger she always rough-housed with the boys and was a total stranger to 'girl talk.' And when she realized that dresses meant no more roughhousing, she refused to even go near them! I remember that struggle well._ As his thoughts retraced the memory, he remembered the struggle he and his mate had. _She always was 'unusually' strong,_ he mused, and then his eyebrows shot up in shock. _How lon_g HAS_ she been training?_

            Gohan was hastily brought out of his thoughts by the sound of the guard's voice. "She's in there, Son."

            He nodded solemnly and walked in the door the guard had opened for him. The door was then shut behind him. "Pan?" he called softly.

            "Tousan!" Pan ran to him and caught him up in an almost painful embrace.

            Gohan chuckled. "It's not THAT bad down here, is it?"

            Pan let go of him and laughed slightly. "No, but I'm starving!"

            "Sorry, didn't bring anything," he told her with a sheepish grin.

            "No need. I'm getting out of here soon."

            "Eh?" Gohan seemed confused, and scratched the back of his head in pure Son style.

            "I'm either getting out or I'm busting out-their choice."

            Gohan grinned. He always admired his daughters rebellious spirit- but now was not the time nor place for it. "Pan…" he said, his voice rising to a warning level.

            She sighed. "I know, Tousan, I know. I must obey Royal law."

            Gohan grinned with pride at his only child. "Now, about this training…"

            "It's not fair!" she cried with such fierceness he rocked back on his heels. "I'm just as good as a male saiyan, Tousan! Better!"

            "I know, I know," he said in a soothing tone. He never once doubted his Pan, but there was a first time for everything. He wasn't entirely confident of her fighting skill.

            Pan looked down at the cold stone floor. "I guess you want an explanation."

            "You're damn right I do," Gohan told her. "And I want it now. What were you doing_ training_ on _royal_ grounds?"

            "It's a way to take out my anger," she lied to him. She hated lying, especially to her father, but she'd rather lie then tell him she trained for the sheer joy of training and fighting. He wouldn't understand. "And I didn't know I was on royal grounds. I was training by the Westside."

            Gohan seemed to digest this information. "I can forgive you for being on royal grounds, but training, Pan?" He looked her in the eye. "I want you to promise me that you'll never train again. Take your anger out on something else."

            Pan stared into his ebony eyes, utterly surprised-and disappointed. She thought that her father, of all people, would understand her will, her need, to fight. Instead, he was trying to clip the wings that freed her. "Tousan…"

            "Promise me, Pan. Promise me you'll never train again," he repeated.

            _I could understand a few months, even a few years-but never? How could I _never_ train again?_ She thought to herself, shocked that he would do this to her.

            Suddenly there was knock at the door. "Son Pan? Prince Trunks had agreed to see you now. You can come as well, Son," a guard said as he pulled open the door.

            They both nodded, faces grim. The decision of Prince Trunks could affect Pan's very life, if he chose so.

            Pan breathed a sigh of relief as two guards grabbed her arms, ignoring her father's angry glares at such treatment. She didn't promise her father anything-and how could she break a promise that was never made?

**Author's Note: Yes, I know, it's short, but trust me-the next update will be soon and long!! I _promise_. And also, I would like to thank all of my reviewers! (not many… but hey, beggars can't be choosers…) Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!! Thank you!!! ^-^ You make a writer happy. ^-^**

**((*Sings tune to oneself* Don't worry, be happy….Do…do…do..do…do…do)) lol. Thanks everyone!**


	4. You Are My Prince

Chapter 4

You Are My Prince

            When they all reached the Prince, they bowed down to one knee, fists over their hearts.

            Trunks nodded for them to stand, and they did. He was surprised to see Son Gohan here, but after that brief thought entered his mind, he thought nothing more of it.

            "So, my Prince?" Pan asked. Her voice was angry, but it held a certain amount of respect and awe in it. "What will be my punishment?"

            Trunks stared at her for a brief moment, then answered. "I haven't thought about it much," he started. Truth was, he could get his mind off it. He had finally decided the best punishment for her, the best punishment that she would give her all not to repeat it. "But I have decided that you shall stay one month here in the palace, working as a servant."

            Pan would rather go tot the dungeon-and she was about to tell him so. Gohan placed a restraining hand in her shoulder. "No Pan," he said softly.

            Pan's glare hardened, but to Gohan's relief she said nothing, though her tail was jerking about wildly.

            Prince Trunks smirked-his punishment had the desired affect on her. "Guards, lead her to the servants chambers. Get her a temporary room, and let Head Master Doshen see her."

            The guards nodded and then bowed to the floor as one, saying together, "For the glory of Vegeta." Gohan was next and he did the same. Before he turned to leave, he clasped Pan's arm. "Stay out of trouble, ok?"

            Pan nodded, and gave his arm a firm shake. "I'll try, Tousan."

            Gohan turned and left, wishing with all his heart that she'd be ok.

            Pan followed the guards down the hall, knowing that this would be one hell of a month.

*******

            Pan was the only female servant, one of the only females in the palace, for that matter, and was treated as such. She was sent to do the easiest, most feminine of the tasks, and she was angered when the easy load was dumped on her. She could handle just as much work as the male saiyans could, and she aimed to prove it.

            "Pan, our Prince will be out on royal matters today-do clean his room, will you?"  Head Master Doshen said coolly. He was one that enjoyed giving Pan easy tasks.

            "P-prince T-Trunks?" she stuttered. No 'low-class' servant like herself was aloud near the Prince's quarters.

            "Yes, Prince Trunks," Doshen replied angrily. All of the other servants were out on other business, and Pan was the only one left.

            Pan nodded and left quickly, not at all liking the mood Doshen was in.

            Pan flashed her gold coin to the two guards standing at the side of the Prince's doors-her pass-carrying a bucket of soapy water along with her. She opened Prince Trunks' doors, expecting to see a colossal mess, and was utterly shocked when she saw that the room was only in need of some minor cleaning. _Him, of all people,_ she thought, _neat?! I thought he would be a slob, even though he is a Prince. Guess I was wrong._

She set to work immediately, scrubbing the large, wooden desk and bookcase (with very few books) clean from dust, careful not to rearrange anything. She changed the sheets on the bed, then carried the pillows down to a room at the bottom of the palace and returned with new, fresh pillows. _Only the best for our Prince,_ she thought wryly as she worked.

            As she was cleaning one of the glass sconces on the wall, she noticed that the maroon tinged glass was broken. _Probably threw something at it,_ she thought with a snicker and smirk.

            She left the sconce for the end as she finished the room. She then took the broken glass out and took it down to the glass room. She looked around for another piece like it, but could find nothing. She ordered the glassmaker to make her one that looked exactly like it, and he assured he it would be down by dusk.

            She nodded and left, getting angrier as she did so. _Prince Trunks… you're not even here, yet I am _still_ doing you're work!_ She thought. Her tail flickered heatedly, and she retreated to the console of her room.

            Her room was actually a guest room-and was bigger then most servant's rooms, since she was only going to be here for a month. She began her daily exercises, the closest she could get to training-pushups, sit-ups, and everything else imaginable.

*******

            Pan opened the Prince's door after showing the guards her pass. With the freshly made glass sconce in her hands, she walked in, not yet noticing the figure lying on the bed. She saw no need in turning on the lights, so she worked in the dark. She began the time consuming task of putting the glass back onto the wall without breaking it.

            "There," she muttered, looking at her handy work. "Done." She got off the chair she was standing on to reach the wall and began to walk out when a voice froze her in her tracks.

            "What do you think you're doing?"

            Pan stopped and whirled around, for the first time spotting the figure on the bed. "T-Trunks!" she gasped. He wasn't supposed to be here!

            In the dark room it was hard to see, but Pan could make out the figure, which was the one and only Prince Trunks, turn over to lie on his back, and prop himself up on his elbows. "What are you doing here?"

            "I was sent to clean your quarters, your highness," Pan said, and she was so frightened and shocked that she forgot to bow.  She saw his smirk, though. "But what are you doing here?"

            "Well, I, uh," Trunks stammered.

            Pan looked to him, shocked. _He's_ stuttering?! What was wrong? She took a tentative step towards him. "So… why are you here?" she asked again.

            "This is my room. Why can't I be in here?" he snarled.

            Pan sensed he was hiding something and took a few more steps towards the bed until she was almost touching the bed. "But you're not supposed to be here until tomorrow," she countered. The sinking feeling in her stomach was getting bigger and bigger.

            "And you're only a low class saiyan, and you're not supposed to be here at all. So _LEAVE!" _he growled.

            In the dark she saw him wince in pain and she heard a low, pained moan escape his throat as he slipped from his elbows to his back on the bed.

            "Prince?" she asked, and was instantaneously by the side of the bed, and the sinking feeling in her stomach was instantly gone.

            "Nothing," he growled through clenched teeth. "Nothing is wrong."

            The fact that he had answered a question she had yet to ask confirmed her suspicions that something _was_ wrong. "What happened?" she asked as she turned on a small light on the night table by his bed. He winced a little at the light, but for once he did not complain.

            Pan gasped when her eyes adjusted to the light. Prince Trunks had various cuts layering his face. She wondered briefly what the rest of him looked like. "What in the world did you do? I heard that you were away on royal matters… but I didn't know _THAT_ was what happened when you left…"

            "It is nothing. I am fine. Leave me," he growled softly.

            Pan looked at him, slightly amused. "I'm not going anywhere. And at the current shape you're in, neither are you!"

            "Curse you! Why won't you leave me?" he snarled. "I deserve what I got."

            "I doubt that highly," Pan said. She took a look at him again. "There's no way you deserved _THAT_."

            Prince Trunks eyes narrowed. "Why won't you leave me be?" he repeated heatedly.

            "Because you are my prince," Pan answered absently. She pulled the bag that she always carried with her since she had become a servant at the palace off her shoulders and rummaged through it a bit. She pulled out a small bag, which the contents were hidden. She glanced around the room, and her eyes landed on a bottle with a cream-like substance in it, used to prevent infection on cuts and minor abrasions. "My Prince, can I use this?" she asked picking the bottle up.

            "What? Why?"

            "Thanks."

            "What? But-"

            "Well, you never said I couldn't,' she countered as she emptied the contents of her small bag into the bottle then shook it up. "Turn over," she commanded, "And take off your shirt."

            "I will not! I will not be-"

            Pan cut him off. "Stop being a conceited bastard and just do it!" she growled.

            Surprised by her tone, Prince Trunks meekly obliged to the younger saiyan.

            Pan cringed when she saw his back; the long lash marks and deep gashes were bleeding on the new sheets. Slowly she placed the cool, soothing cream all over his back, and not for one mere second did she relish her actions.

            She waited for the cream to sink into his skin, and then ordered for him it turn around. "And don't ask why," she said. "I need to spread this on your chest."

            Surprisingly Prince Trunks did what was asked of him. When she reached up to spread the cream on his face, his eyes flashed dangerously and her hand stopped. "I need to put this on your face, my Prince. You need them to heel quickly, and this will help," she explained. The defensive, protective look in his eyes vanished, so she completed the task.

            When she was done, she turned to leave, turning off the light as she did so, but stopped when she heard Prince Trunks gasp.

            "Why…" he said, marveled. "The pain is almost gone! How did you do that, Son Pan?"

            "I mixed a few herbs I had with that cream of yours," Pan answered.

            Trunks was puzzled. He had held her captive here when he could have released her, then unknown to her, he had ordered Doshen to give her the easiest of jobs, knowing she would be angry. He had been completely egotistical to her. Why had she helped when she knew she would get no thanks or recognition? She sure wasn't like most female saiyans he knew, that was for sure. Any other female would have jumped at the sound of his voice and left when he told them to. But Son Pan… Son Pan didn't. "Why, Son Pan? Why?" he asked at last.

            Pan was speechless. She had no idea why she had just did what she did, because it was obvious to her and to Prince Trunks that she did not like him. So, as calmly as she could, she answered, "You are my Prince. There need be no reason why, Prince Trunks. If you wish to call it something, then consider it a gift." She walked out of the room, and her voice carried over to Trunks. "It's just Pan, Prince Trunks."

            Prince Trunks thought to himself as he lie there on his back. Then, too soft for anyone to hear, he whispered, "It's just Trunks."

**Author's Note: Thank you SO much for the reviews, everyone! Remember-you review, I update. Let's keep the balance people!! ^-^ Thankyouthankyou Thank you!!!**

**Did you like this chapter? I think it's going to be one of my favorites.**

**Next chapter-'Just Trunks'**


	5. Just Trunks

Chapter 5

Just Trunks

            Pan glared furiously at a spot of dirt on the title floor, and scrubbed it again with more fever the next morning.

            "Son Pan."

            Pan stopped her scrubbing and craned her neck to see who was speaking to her. It was Master Doshen. "I don't know what you did wrong to his rooms," he spoke, his face one of controlled anger, "But Prince Trunks wants to see you."

            Pan's hand froze in mid-scrub. _What does he want with me?!?_ She thought. Hastily she stood up and threw the scrubber in the bucket, bowed to Master Doshen, took the gold pass he held out to her, then left.

            Cautiously she opened the door to his room after she showed her pass to the guards, and she heard a mocking voice say, "Come in, won't you?"

            Pan stepped in and shut the door behind her. "You wanted to see me, Prince Trunks?" she asked with a bow.

            "That's why I called you, you know." He stepped out of a room, a closet, Pan guessed, so that she could see him. He looked at her, almost in disgust. "You reek of cleaning soap, and your clothes…" he didn't finish his thought.

            Pan pushed back the tears that threatened to arise. What did he want from her?! But instead she glowered at him; she cold not let him see she was hurt by his comment. "Well, what do you expect? I am a servant now, you of all people should know that!" she snapped. She pulled back her hand, ready to strike him, and then froze as she realized what she was doing. She dropped her hand to her side. She had almost slapped the Prince of Vegeta!

            "Were you about to slap me?" Prince Trunks hissed, his eyes livid.

            "What if I said yeah?!" Pan challenged.

            Prince Trunks didn't know what to say. This female saiyan was making it painfully obvious that she was spirited and would challenge him if the need be. She had been the only saiyan to challenge him ever, except his father. He turned, showing his back to her, knowing that she was smirking.

            "What did you want to see me for? If you're just going to stand there and stare at the wall, count me out."

            Prince Trunks sighed and turned back around to her, holding a small box in his palm. "Here." He threw the box to her. "Now get out."

            She caught the box, and for once actually listened to the Prince and walked out of the room, thrusting the box into her pocket.

*******

            Pan did not get the chance to open the box until she was in her room at night, have been too busy to even peek at it.

            She opened the box carefully, not sure what to expect, then gasped when she saw what it was. It was a beautiful necklace, in a design she had never seen before, and was pretty sure she'd never be able to afford something like this. It was based on a simple black chain. From it hung 5 different small, black chains. The sides were then smallest, and they got longer as they worked their way in; the middle was the longest. Each chain had a small, teardrop shape ruby on the end of the chain, each of them a blood-red color.

            "It's… beautiful!" she breathed, just staring at it. _ Rather then just say thanks and be done with it, he went through the trouble to get me this!_ She thought about it for a moment, and then reasoned that a gift was better then any old thanks. She stared at it a moment longer, then hid it in the mattress of her bed, knowing that it was too expensive for a 'servant' to wear.

*******

            "Son Pan!" a voice roared, rousing Pan from her sleep. She checked the time, finding it to be morning.

            She recognized the voice to be Master Doshen's and answered back, "Yes sir?"

            "Get your lazy, good-for-nothing ass out here!" he roared. "Some how, you've managed to do it again. Prince Trunks wants to see you."

            Pan scurried out of bed, did her hair, changed her clothes, and dashed out of her room. She took the pass from Master Doshen, bowed to him, and was gone in a flash.

            She knocked on the door and heard the muffled reply, "Come in." She opened the door after showing the guards her pass, and Prince Trunks was sitting up on his bed. "What is it, my Prince?" she asked after she bowed. With one look at him her question answered itself.

            Her eyes trailed down from his own intense blue eyes to his sculpted chest, her eyes catching sight of a long deep gash, which was still bleeding.

            Once again she was at the side of his bed. "For the love of Kami, Prince, What happened?!"

            "I had more…. 'Royal matters' to attend to last night. Since you're the only one who knows about this…"

            "What?!" she exclaimed. "You mean to tell me that you haven't informed the palace healers?! You're more stubborn then I thought," she said.

            "I can't tell them," he said. "Lord Frieza ordered me not to…"

            Pan's eyes filled with sorrow for him, but it quickly disappeared, not wanted to hurt his pride any further. "Lord Frieza did this to you?" she asked, angered that Frieza would do such a thing to her Prince.

            Trunks adverted his eyes. "It's nothing I didn't deserve…"

            "I'll be damned if you deserved this," Pan said, and looked around for the cream she had used the other night. She found it under the bed, for it had rolled under there somehow, then applied it to his cut. "Why did you call me up here to do it?" she asked.

            "Because I… I couldn't find that cream of yours," he answered. Truth was, he knew it had rolled under the bed-he just couldn't stand the pain long enough to reach it.

            "I'll change your sheets tomorrow, so that way no one will know." She bowed and turned to leave.

            "Pan."

            _What does he want now?!_ She thought and turned to him, forcing her voice to sound calm. "Yes, my Prince?"

            This time, in a voice loud enough for her to hear, he said, "It's just Trunks."

            Speechless, Pan left, closing the door behind her silently.

**Author's Note: Hey! Did you like? I hope so!!! I am SO happy about all the reviews!! So soo SOOO happy!!! ^-^ Thank you all SO much!**

**Oh, and I wanted to clear something up- Kizzy wondered why the saiyans won't let the females train-the answer to that will be coming up in later chapters-I hope it clears things up ^-^.**

**I'm trying to make this story as different as possible, though still trying to make it believable. I hope I'm doing a good job of it!!**


	6. Rebels on the Battle Front

Chapter 6

Rebels on the Battle Front

            It was the next night and Pan was, once again, in Trunks' room, nursing his wound. This time, though, it wasn't all business, as they were conversing slightly.

            "I live over in the West Quadrant, near the Westside," she was telling him as she placed a bandage on his back. "Nothing special."

            "I've heard about your father, Son Gohan," Trunks said, but he wasn't smirking like Pan thought he would have.

            "And?" she said. "What do you think?"

            "He supplies the palace with many of our inventions. I have no problem with the saiyan, except that he doesn't fight."

            "What?!" she exclaimed. "He never told me that he did business with the palace!"

            "Probably because you'd screw everything up," Prince Trunks said, smirking. 

            She punched him on he back playfully just as she would have with any other of her friends before she remembered that he was the prince. She was shocked when he didn't say anything about it. "No I wouldn't!," she protested indignantly.

            Trunks eyes were watering; she had punched a cut that was still healing. _How can she punch so hard?_ He thought, then winced when she placed a bandage on another tender cut. "What I'd like to know is this: why is it that you lust for battle, and your father can't even harm a fly?"

            "I'm not really like my Tousan," she mumbled. "Saiyan blood runs through my veins more then my family blood lines."

            Trunks considered the answer and decided that he liked it. He nodded once as if to say that he approved.

            Pan, having finished the back, tapped his shoulder. "What me to do that nasty cut in the front?" she asked.

            In response he flipped over on the bed and sat up. Pan quickly placed the cream on the cut, then bandaged it up.

            "What is in that cream?" Trunks finally asked.

            "A few healing herbs," she answered. "Me and my father went out to a forest this one time and he taught me about those kinds of things. Those… those were the last I had."

            Trunks heard the shutting of the door, and knew she was gone. He lay still, thinking. _She's just a saiyan, just like me. She doesn't deserve to be punished for doing what he blood tells her to._ But Trunks wouldn't openly admit that he, the prince of all saiyans, was wrong. Pan would just have to tough it out the next two weeks.

            Pan set the table carefully, placing everything in the right place like she was taught to. She sighed. She _HATED_ setting tables. She finished as quickly as she could, and made her get away back to her room.

            "Where do you think you're going?" a voice stopped her. Once it again, the annoying voice belonged to Master Doshen.

            "To my room. Where else would I go?" Pan shot back. Lately, she couldn't stand Doshen's attitude.

            "You never know. You have been up in the Prince's room a lot of the late," Master Doshen said smirking.

            "And?" she asked back heatedly, but still didn't bow to him. He didn't deserve it.

            "Now where do you think you're going? You will stop and face me when I talk to you!" he growled.

            "Well stop talking to me and I won't have t face you," Pan muttered as she continued to walk out.

            Doshen materialized in front of her, and his hand was pulled back to strike her-after all, she was a servant, and he did have the right to hit her.

            "Doshen, if you want to keep your job, I wouldn't do that."

            Doshen froze for a second, then turned around. "P-Prince!" He collapsed in a rushed bow.

            Pan didn't know if there was ever a better time for him to show up. She bowed as well, and the let the relief show in her eyes. "Hello, my prince," she said.

            He acknowledged her with a nod, and his eyes returned back to Doshen. "Where you about to hit her, Doshen?" he asked, his icy glare cutting right through him.

            "Uh, well you see your highness, she was, uh," Doshen stuttered.

            "I hope you weren't, Doshen. She's only a temporary servant, and she can't go home injured, now can she?" the Prince asked, his voice taunting.

            "N-no, of course not, Prince…"

            "Good. I'm going to borrow her, I have some tasks that need to be done…"

            "Her, my lord? Why not pick another? They are stronger then she is, my Prince."

            Trunks saw Pan's anger flare, and he knew he had to say something to sooth her fury. "I prefer her, she is not as clumsy or as slow as those other saiyans you call 'servants'. I will be leaving now, unless you are going to continue to advise me how to pick my own servants?"

            "N-no, of course not, my Prince. Good day." Doshen bowed.

            Pan smirked as she followed Trunks out of the room. _Big, bad Doshen is shakin' in his boots,_ she mused to herself.

            "I owe you one," Pan said as soon as they left the room.

            "Don't mention it," Prince Trunks muttered, striding down the hallway.

            "So where are we going?" she asked.

            "You'll see."

            Pan wasn't sure if she liked that answer or not, but she followed him down the hall anyway.

            Suddenly, Trunks turned to her. "Here," he said, thrusting a blue material into her hands. She took and, and it took her a few moments to realize that they were clothes-training clothes. He nodded towards a room, and leaned against a wall, waiting.

            She walked into the room and shut the door, still confused. _I guess he wants me to change into these…?_ She thought to herself. She quickly changed into the spandex material, surprised that it was the right size, and threw her hair up swiftly. She came back out, hands on her hips. "What is the meaning of this, Trunks?" she demanded.

            "Well, there are a few rebels in Nhean," he started. "They think that I am too weak to hold the throne. We are going to go up there and stop the uprising."

            "What?!" Pan screeched. "Where did this 'we' shit come from all of a sudden?"

            He chuckled. "Well, they said they found you training. You have the desire to act like a true saiyan, but can you live up to it?"

            "B-but they will think that you are weak, having women run your battles!" Pan protested.

            But Trunks had already thought this possibility out. "So you are saying that you're too weak?"

            "Never!"

            He chuckled. "I didn't think so. Now let's go."

            "But I'm a servant! They won't-"

            "And I am the Prince. If you are coming with me, you have the pass to do just about anything."

            She sighed. "Fine then. Let's go."

            Pan and Trunks were striding down a long field, and Pan was getting impatient. "Why don't we just fly there?"

            Trunks missed a step. "You can _fly_?!" he asked her incredulously.

            "Indeed I can," she answered with a smirk.

            Without another word Trunks was in the sky, and Pan was right behind him. She felt so free in the air, especially when it didn't matter if anyone saw her or not.

            Trunks was surprised that she could keep up with him, and speeded up, wondering just how fast she could go. Still she was right behind him.

            Trunks soon descended to an open field, and Pan landed right behind him. "Why did we stop here? I-"

            Trunks silenced her with a look and a snap of words. "Shut up."

            Pan glared at him, but said nothing more, and searched the area with her eyes, searching for other power levels. She felt a few suppressed energies, and gasped when she realized that they were surrounded. "Trunks…"

            "I know. Let's see how well you can fight."

            Pan felt her stomach churning with uneasiness. She hadn't fought someone since she was four or five, and since then all she had done was train alone. She wasn't sure how people fought anymore. She moved in her fighting position, ready.

            Trunks watched her for a moment, then put a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down. We don't know what they're doing yet."

            Pan nodded and stood up from her crouched position, her eyes surveying the area.

            "I'm here. Get out now, or I'll blast you out."

            About a dozen, lean saiyans walked out from their hiding places, and Pan sweat-dropped. She had no idea how high her power level was compared to these saiyans, and she knew she could easily be seriously injured-or worse, killed.

            "Well, well, well. Look who it is," one said slyly. Pan guessed him to be the leader.

            "What do you want?" Trunks growled.

            "You know what we want," the leader said. "We want you out. We don't need no weak-ass saiyan for our Prince. Let somebody strong rule-like me." The leader turned his head and looked at Pan, as if seeing her for the first time. He barked a laugh, and Pan's glare hardened. "Look at this. He brings a _female_ along with him!"

            Trunks shrugged. "I figured you guys wouldn't be a big problem, so I brought a servant along with me."

            "To do what?" the leader snarled.

            "Well, to finish you off, of course." Trunks crossed his arms in front of him placidly. He yawned, as if at ease with the whole situation.

            Pan smirked and stood tall, acting the same way Trunks was, though she certainly didn't feel it.

            "Nice excuse, Prince," the leader scoffed.

            Pan saw Trunks falter, so she spoke up. "Well, why don't you come over here and we'll see if My Prince's 'boast' is so fake?" she asked, and stifled a yawn, but made sure they could see it. She turned to Trunks and said in a voice loud enough for them to hear, "My Prince, why did we have to come out here? We could have left these fools alone, they aren't going to harm anyone."

            The leader was fuming, his face red. "What do you know?!" he rumbled. "I could hurt a woman if a wanted!"

            "Yeah? Then get over here," Pan said calmly. She put up her fists. "Bring in on, tough guy," she snickered.

            Trunks chuckled himself. _She's handling this better then I would have thought. Actually, she's coming in handy. She's playing it cool._ He settled himself back, ready to watch or even step in if the need be.

            The leader stepped up to Pan, seething. "I can beat a girl," he snarled. "You watch."

            Pan smirked. "I'm watching." Dancing around on her toes, she left her stance open so it looked as if she didn't know what she was doing. She left her middle open deliberately, almost forcing him to try and hit her there.

            Trunks watched, puzzled. _Maybe I was wrong,_ he thought to himself, shaking his head.

            The leader slammed his fist forward for her middle she knowingly left open for him. She blocked him, and continued to dance around on her toes, circling him, taunting him. "Hey," she said with a sneer. "Watch this." She smacked her fist right into his face, right when he wasn't ready for it. "Did you see that?" she jeered. "No?" she asked as the leader staggered back. "Here, let me show you again." She slammed her fist into his abdominal. He doubled over her fist, gasping for air.

            _Or, maybe not,_ Trunks thought as he watched. _But she's getting cocky. It's obvious that she's never fought before, but she does well despite it._

            Pan brought her power up a few notches, and was aware that he did as well. This wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.

**Author's Note: You have to admit, I _do_ update quickly, don't I? ^-^ It's because of all of the wonderful reviews!! Tee-he! Lol. The updates should now becoming out in one day at the earliest, and two at the latest. However, _you_, as in the readers, have to keep up that balance of life. You review, I update. Simple and easy as that!**

**Now remember-if you're going to flame, make it constructive criticism. I don't want stuff like "YOUR STORY SUCKS!" because that means nothing to me. Nothing. Those types of flames will be used to roast my marshmallows and to feed the fire for my other Fan ficcys. If you hate my story, _tell me why._ All right? Understand? Good.**

**Once again, Thank you for the reviews!!!!!! THANK YOU!**

**Oh, and I've forgotten this-I don't own Dragon Ball Z, but I _do_ own my Dbz drawings! Mwahahah! *ahem* ….**

**…**

***cricket cricket***

**…**

***cricket cric-***

**SHUT UP, YOU STUPID CRICKET!!!!!**

**…**


	7. One Word

Chapter 7

One Word

            Pan crouched down into her real fighting stance, ready for anything.

            "Ladies first," the leader, who she later found out that his name was Talon, sneered.

            Pan shot forward, and felt her fist connect with his jaw in a bone-jarring punch. Talon fell back to the ground with a thud. "Not on the battlefield," she sneered back. She jumped back, and positioned herself back in her fighting stance, fighting down the butterflies in her stomach that threatened to arise.

            Talon hopped into a back-hand-spring and stood up in his own fighting stance. Suddenly he flew forward. Pan saw him and met his fist with her own, a punches and kicks were given and taken.

            Pan's mind went blank, as it does when one talks, and concentrated only on the task before her, leaving no room for thought.

            Trunks watched the two go at it, surprised at how well she was holding up. Not only could she give punches, but she could take them too. If she had someone to sharpen her up on her training skills, she could become a very accomplished fighter-maybe, even, one of best.

            On the battlefield, Pan did not have as much brute strength as Talon had, but she made up for her lack of strength with speed. She dodged a punch and brought her leg up to kick him in the gut.

            She decided to end this little match, and brought her power up higher. She kicked Talon into a tree, and with a satisfied smirk heard the sickening thud as Talon hit the ground.

            "Say good-bye, Talon," she hissed and held her palm out in front of her.

            _What?!?! She has mastered ki blasts?!?!_ Trunks thought to himself. Left with no more time, he materialized next to Pan and put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Let him live," he said calmly. At that moment, he had no idea how his voice sounded so calm when his mind was reeling. _Impossible! How does she know how to project her ki in a fatal fashion? Son Gohan wouldn't have taught her… She knows how to fly… and to fight… what kind of female is she?_ He thought. He watched her power down and she calmed, and concluded his thoughts. _She is a saiyan._

            Trunks looked around to the remaining rebels. "I suggest that you get a new outlook on my strength, because it is obviously not weak, as you have previously thought.

            "Since I am a ruler who believes that we are only people and must make mistakes, I will let you live and go home to your families. _Do not make the same mistake twice._

            "As for you," Trunks said, looking to Talon, "you will be coming with us. That will be all."

            The rebels dropped down in a guilty bow, mumbled something that resembled 'to the glory of Vegeta' and left. Pan, Trunks, and Talon followed shortly after.

*******

            Pan shoved Talon into the dungeon, her eyes glowing proudly. Trunks may have been able to do this job unaided, but she did it and did it alone.

            "Don't get too cocky," Trunks muttered to her as they walked back through the halls. "They were an easy group of rebels. Train harder and you can become one of the best."

            Pan became infuriated. "What do you think I've been _trying_ to do, Trunks?! Where would you _like_ me to train?!" she hissed.

            He shrugged, then smirked. "Somewhere where no one can see you." He turned, and was gone in the swirl of his cape.

            "The nerve of that man!" Pan growled to herself as she walked back to her quarters. She stopped suddenly. "Does that mean I am _allowed_ to train?" She continued walking as she puzzled this new question.

            "Where do you think you're going?" a voice stopped her in her tracks.

            Doshen.

            "Back to my quarters," she answered, not looking behind her-she knew Doshen was there.

            "I don't think so. You're coming with me."

            "No, Doshen, I'm not," Pan snarled. She was not in the mood for his crap. "I'm tried and I can hardly stand up." She continued down the hallway to her room. Abruptly she felt Trunks's ki flare up, and she wondered what was wrong as she felt a number of other kis rise up as well. _What's going on?_ She questioned herself.

            It seemed that Doshen felt this as well. "You're lucky, I will deal with you later," he growled, and then ran off to the throne room, his power growing as left.

            _What is going on?!_ She thought to herself. She continued on her way to her room, too tired to care, and knowing that if she wanted to care, they would never let a female saiyan actually _do_ something.

            Getting to her room she collapsed, knowing she would hurt tomorrow, for she hadn't trained for almost a month.

*******

            Abruptly, Pan woke with a start. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of her room, trying to find what had awakened her. Not finding anything physically, she searched the palace with her mind.

            She gasped-something was terribly wrong. Down the corridor where the royal family lived, there were a few kis that were trying to hide their power moving about. Her intuition told her that they were up to no good. She got up out of her room, deciding that she wasn't going to leave this to the experienced-she was going to help her lords whether they liked it-and whether she was allowed or not.

            She crept out of her room, sneaking down the hallway quickly. Her senses were alert, waiting for the slightest sound or movement that would give the intruders away. Her jet eyes watched the dark hallways, looking for movement. Her saiyan tail twitched, waiting.

            Absently she made her way to Trunks's room, and when she found herself in front of his door the only thing she could think to do was to go in. She quietly knocked on the door once, then let herself in-she couldn't risk making all that commotion.

            "Trunks? Trunks I-"

            A hand closed around her throat. "I suggest you shut up, or your precious Prince will go down in history," a voice hissed.

            Pan's eyes darted about, her body quivering in fear. Her tail quivered once, then fell limp behind her-it was all over. She had been caught. "W-Who are you?" she stuttered.

            The voice snickered. "The new King of Vegeta."

            "W-w-wha? Y-you didn't!" she gasped. There was no way that this saiyan had killed the King of Vegeta.

            "No, not yet. But soon." The person dragged her over to Trunks's bed, shoving something cold in her hand. "Farewell, young rebel," the voice jeered, and the presence was suddenly gone.

            "Trunks?" Pan said tentatively, frightened. "Trunks, are you alright?" She knew that if she was caught she would most likely would be tortured for life, for being in the Prince's room with no pass and after curfew-but she just had to make sure Trunks was alright.

            Pan waited for an answer in the silent room, her tail quivering with fear. _One word,_ she thought. _All I want is one word._ She waited, the seconds dragging on to several minutes, but she refused to leave until she knew Trunks was all right.

            But Pan never got the chance. Suddenly the lights were thrown on in Trunks's room, and a dozen guards filed in, King Vegeta standing in the doorway, his hands crossed in front of him. His cool, harsh glare settled on Pan. "So this is Son Pan. Yes, I've heard _plenty_ about you, but they never told me you were an assassin."

            "W-what??" she stammered. What had happened in the dark world of the room when she couldn't see, while she was waiting merely for his word? She looked at Trunks on the bed and gasped. Puncture wounds covered his body; leaving him a bloody mess-and so was the knife in her hand.

Author's Note: Hey everybody!! I'm really sorry about not updating sooner; I had track meets the last two days and had no time to write. Sorry!! All I have left if track championships, and then it won't be here to occupy my time. All right? Like I said, I'm sorry!!

**Thank everybody SOOOOO much for the reviews!!!!! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!!**


	8. Word Travels Fast

Chapter 8

Word Goes Around Fast

            The knife clattered to the floor as Pan looked at her hand in numb disbelief. "… no… I…" _That's_ what the guy put in her hand-the knife. In her fear she had held it in a death grip, too preoccupied with Trunks and too frightened to really remember it was there-until now.

            The guards rushed at her, shoving her against the wall, away from the knife. King Vegeta strode up to Trunks, checking his pulse. His eyes widened, and he roared, "Get the healers in here! He's still alive!"

            Pan, too insensitive to fight the guards, only stared at Trunks with eyes with from shock. She didn't hear King Vegeta at all, and the only thing she could do was blink dumbly, as if she was still waiting for Trunks to wake up and tell her he was all right, and it was all some cruel joke.

            But that didn't happen.

            King Vegeta turned to Pan. "And _her_," he snarled, his face an ugly scowl. "Take _her_ to the dungeons. I will deal with her later."

            "Shouldn't we just kill her?" a guard asked.

            "No, no, not yet. If and when she dies, it will be slow and painful. Now where are the healers?!" the last comment Vegeta roared, his eyes furious.

            Pan was tossed into the dungeon carelessly, and she landed on the ground with a sickening thud. Her cry of pain echoed in the empty dungeon, but the guards on watch didn't seem to care. She writhed on the ground in pain, her right elbow bent in an odd angle. Gasping, she sat up, her arm hanging uselessly by her side.

            "You okay?"

            Pan flinched at the words, looking around for the one who spoke them. "W-what?"

            "I asked you if you were alright. Are you?" the voice, feminine, questioned.

            "I-I guess," Pan stuttered, cradling her arm. "Who are you?"

            "Me? I'm Niomi. Now let me take a look at your arm."

            Pan tentatively held out her arm, glancing away with a sharp intake of breath when she saw her elbow jutting in a way that nature never intended it to go.

            "My my, that looks nice," Niomi mumbled sarcastically as she scooted over, letting Pan have a closer look at her.

            Niomi looked much like herself- she had long ebony hair framing her face, with intelligent coal black eyes, gleaming with strength. Pan immediately felt like she could trust Niomi, and her fear melted away for just a moment.

            Carefully Niomi rotated Pan's arm, trying to find the exact spot it was broken at. White-hot pain sear through Pan's arm and throughout her body, and she gritted her teeth to keep the cry of pain in her throat. "What are you doing?" she snapped, becoming angered at the treatment of her arm.

            Surprisingly, Niomi laughed. "Sorry. I just have to find out where your arm is broken. It might not heal back the right way."

            "And that means-"

            "Right," Niomi said with a nod, then continued inspecting her arm. "On the count of three, I'll set it. One, two," Niomi then swiftly jutted Pan's elbow back into place, holding it with her hands.

            "Whatever happened to three?" Pan gasped between clenched teeth.

            "Must have forgotten it," Niomi said with a grin. "Seriously? You dreaded three, and when I would have said three, your body would have tensed up, and I may not have been able to set it. If I did it on two, you wouldn't have had as much fear."

            "Thanks," Pan said dryly.

            Niomi smiled. "Don't mention it." She then ripped a small piece of her shirt off, using it to wrap up Pan's arm. When Pan protested, she replied- "it's the least I can do."

            "So why are you down here anyway?" Niomi asked after a while.

            "I-I… I" Pan stuttered. "I don't really know," she concluded, casting her eyes downward.

            Niomi nodded in understanding. "That bad, huh?"

            Pan looked up at her. "But I didn't do it," she said, surprised that her voice came out in a soft whisper, almost desperate.

            Niomi sensed the truth in her voice. "If you don't want to tell me, don't. But I believe you."

            "Thanks," Pan said with a small smile, but her body started to shake in fear.

            Niomi quickly changed the subject. "So who are you? I told you my name-what's yours?"

            "Pan," she answered-but still shaking.

            "Pan?" Niomi questioned incredulously. "Son Pan?"

            "Y-yeah," Pan stuttered, her eyes wide. "H-how do you know?"

            Niomi flashed a toothy grin. "Word gets around fast in the palace, even down here."

            "I knew word got around fast, but I never dreamed that it got down here," Pan said, still shocked.

            Niomi chuckled. "You'd be surprised.

            "So, did Prince Trunks get tired of you and just throw you down here?" Niomi joked.

            "Not exactly," Pan mumbled.

            Niomi winced.  She forgot already to stay away from that subject. "I always wanted to meet you," she blurted truthfully. "I just never expected to meet you here."

            Pan managed a smile. "Me? Why me?"

            "Because you were caught _training_ Pan. Training! Don't you see? I'm just the way you are-but I've never had the guts to train for fear I'd be caught. You've inspired me to realize that I have to take the risk."

            "R-really?" Pan stuttered. Then she smirked. "Perhaps I can teach you to train."

            Niomi grinned. "I'd like that." Suddenly, Pan admitted a very misplaced yawn, and blushed. "Why don't you go to bed, Pan. You must be tired."

            Pan was about to protest when she realized that she _was_ tired. All the… actives… of the night had tired her greatly, not to mention the fact that it was early in the morning, before most of the populace awoke. "Good idea. Thanks, Niomi."

            "No problem."

            Pan laid down as comfortably on the stone floor, resting her head on her hands. Forgetting about what had happened, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

            **Author's Note: Sorry sorry sorry sorry! Okay like I said, I'm really sorry about not posting, so I decided to post another today. Do you forgive me? Please say you're not mad… This makes up for it right?**

**…**

**Right?**

**^-^ Well anyway I'd like to thank everyone for the simply wonderful reviews. I might have stated this before (but I'm too lazy to check) but just leaving a simply, thoughtful review means _so_ much to me. Thank you all so much!!! ^-^ I don't know how to repay you all… will new chapters work?**

**Just to let you all know, I have a plan for this story and I know where it's headed-therefore, hopefully no writer's block (*crosses fingers, fervently praying she hasn't jinxed herself*) and quick chapters. However, if you have any insight, leave it in a review!**

**Also, if you have any questions, feel free to ask-I don't care what they are. E-mail or review, however you like. I'm open to anything! If you're confused about something in the story-ask. Most likely, something's wrong and I have to fix it.**

**Well, Adios! Later! Sayoonara! (that's Japanese for goody-bye, I think… correct me if I'm wrong I'm learning ^-^)**


	9. Instinct

Chapter 9

Instinct

            Pan woke abruptly, her body shaking. She had the same feeling she had earlier that morning-the fear, the wrongness. She stood up, one arm swiftly aiding the injured one so she wouldn't have to let it hang uselessly by her side. In one, blinding flash, the answer came to her. _The rebels!_ Her mind screamed. _The rebels we took care of earlier- they were only a distraction, a joke! Their real objective was to make us_ think _we got rid of the problem, when in reality, we didn't! They've come back to finish the job!_ Pan's dark eyes surveyed the dungeon. Was it, her mind reasoned, possible to escape? She looked to the sleeping form of Niomi, and she had to warn her.

            "Niomi," she whispered urgently, nudging her with her foot. "Niomi, wake up!"

            "Huh-what?" Niomi muttered, her eyes fluttering open.

            "Niomi, I have to go," Pan said in a hushed voice.

            "What?! How?" Niomi questioned, her eyes wide.

            "I'm going to have to break out. Something's wrong. For your sake, don't leave, or you'll get in more trouble."

            "Pan, what are you talking about? The walls and bars are made of steel! You can't break them!" Niomi exclaimed.

            But Pan wasn't exactly paying attention to Niomi any more, as her eyes were hard and cold. "Watch me," she hissed, and her yellow aura burst out around her.

            Niomi yelped and scrambled back, getting out of the way. In the present state that Pan was in, no one could talk to her.

            Pan's power swirled around her, and she grabbed the urgency of this act and fed her power on it. She _needed _to get out-and there was only one way to do it.

            The bars of the doors burst back, slamming into the opposite wall, surprising the guards. Pan strode out of the dungeon, her need controlling her actions. The guards rushed to stop her, but she stopped them merely by the flick of her hand, throwing them up against the wall.

            As soon as they were covered, she masked her power, not wanting to be found. At least, not just yet. Masking herself as an anonymous slave, she made her way towards the feeling, knowing she had to help.

            As she watched from the privacy of the shadows, she saw people running about frantically, being awoken by her blast from the dungeons. Slinking past them, she made her way to the only place she could think of-the throne room. The rebels were either going to try and finish the job, or make a direct attack on King Vegeta himself-and she could not let that happen. King Vegeta may have mistaken her as an assassin, but he was still her lord, her king, and always would be-

            Unless he was dead.

            She forced that though out of her mind, continuing on down the hallway.

            No one noticed the slave in the shadows. No one ever noticed slaves, even if they were female. Since Pan was wearing the traditional slave's garments, she was no exception. Keeping her tail wrapped around her waist so as not to draw eyes to her, she continued on.

            Her mind was only thinking about one thing-the protection of her King.

            She walked into the room she knew as King Vegeta's, floating just above the ground so she would minimize the noise risk. Her eyes surveyed the room for the rebels, for anything.

            _So we meet again, Young Rebel,_ a voice said. No, it was not said, Pan could not hear it, but she could… feel it.

            She whirled around, looking for someone, anyone, but her searching eyes found nothing. "What do you want?!" she snapped.

            But the voice did not answer her question, and instead said something else. _You're blast in the dungeons distracted us. We did not know you would do something like that-we did not know you were capable of something like that-but it has come with unexpected surprises._

            "We?!" Pan said into the darkness. "Who is 'we'? What surprises?" She felt helpless, not being able to know or feel where this dangerous stranger was, and being so clueless on a subject she _had_ to know to save her people's King.

            The voice only chuckled in her mind, and called her by a name it had created itself for her. _Young Rebel,_ is said, it's voice now a whisper. _You ask too many questions. Don't worry, you'll know soon enough._

_            You've made my job soooo much easier. Thank you._ And then, suddenly, it was gone.

            _What was he talking about?_ Pan questioned herself. She feared the worse as she made her way to the King's bed-this time, she had no knife in her hand, and could not be accused-or could she?

            She walked up to the bed tentatively, and she could see a form of a body on the bed. _Well, at least he's still there,_ she thought wryly. She hesitantly touched the form on the bed, and was terrified to find out that it was cool, cold. _…dead?_ Her mind questioned, but she pushed the thought out of her mind. "Sir, wake up," she said, shaking his muscular arm. "Wake up," she said more urgently then before. "_Please._"

            Getting no response, she shook harder, almost wishing that if she shook him hard enough he'd wake.

            But, of course, that wasn't going to happen.

            A cool blast of wind hit her face, blowing her hair about. She realized that the window was open, and for one brief second she thought about flying through the window into the night sky. The sky wouldn't care what she was accused of, would nurture her from her fears, and let her be free.

            However tempting that idea was, she could not-would not-abandon her planet like that-even if the blame could be shoved on her shoulders.

            Instinct alone guided Pan's good hand to King Vegeta's chest, and instinct alone made her begin to power up. Spreading her hand on his sculptured chest, she absently closed her eyes as she began to feed her power into her Lord, her King, reviving him.

            It was as if she pushed an 'on' button in him. Wakening his lungs, they took a large, tentative breath, grasping the air that they had so recently lacked. With joy she could feel his heart beat again, and knew-hoped-he'd now be all right. She stood up, now dizzy from her lack of power and swayed on her feet. She turned to leave, to return back to the dungeons; Now that he was breathing, he would hopefully be all right, and soon the guards would find him.

            The guards-where were they?

            "Son Pan, if you want to keep you life for just a shred longer, you will remain motionless," a voice growled.

            She did not have to be told-the voice froze her in her tracks as the lights slowly came on as more guards piled into the room. _No… not again, not again!_ He mind shrieked, but she could do nothing as the guards grabbed her, pulling her away from King Vegeta.

            "So, I see, Son Pan, you've come back to finish the job," a voice sneered, and her insides churned with hatred. Doshen. "Oh, you have nothing to say, eh? You will when we torture you for answers."

            _Torture?_ She turned to ice. _No, not torture._ Despite her fear she lifted her chin proudly, pride gleaming in her eyes. "Go ahead and try," she hissed at him.

            Doshen fell back a step, surprised that she actually said something, and in the manner she said it.

            Pan felt a blinding pain, and it took her a moment to realize that he had punched her in the gut. She doubled-over his fist, falling as far to her knees as the guards holding her would allow.

            Wrenching her broken arm back, Pan cried in more pain as the started to drag her out of the room, and she was dimly aware that they weren't dragging her back to the dungeons.

            Trying to keep her vision straight, she looked at her feet as she dangled uselessly behind the guards. Her arm was now numb with pain, and she couldn't even feel it-but she knew that eventually, she would. But now she could only be dragged around like a rag doll, at the mercy of the guards.

*******

            She was thrown into a dark room, the door being shut on her with a loud clank. She didn't even bother to situate herself from the crumpled heap she was in and fell asleep.

*******

            Pan awoke from the searing pain in her arm, but didn't open her eyes. Her face paled and she began to sweat, the pain spreading to her body, not even being able to think straight. _Get yourself together!_ She scolded herself. Keeping her eyes shut, she focused her mind about a place she had been with her father, a peaceful place. Slowly, the pain diminished until it became only a dull throb in her arm, and she could finally open her eyes.

            Reality came flooded back at her, as if a dam had broke and the water cascaded over everything in sight. _What's going to happen?_ She thought. If _King Vegeta is alive, he will be seriously hurt. And Trunks… they'll need a new leader, for the time being-but who is next for the line of the throne?_ She dropped her head into her good hand, tears coursing down her cheeks. _And what is going to happen to me?_

            Author's Note: Well, there's the second chapter for the day-hope you enjoyed it. I'm going to be away this weekend, but I'll post an extra chapter on Friday, deal? Great!

            Once again, THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS!!!!!!

^-^


	10. Broken Trust

Chapter 10

Broken Trust

            Gohan woke up in the morning, and immediately knew that _something_ was wrong. He scratched his head and looked out his window in his own room. What he saw was not comforting.

            Saiyans on Planet Vegeta rarely lost their cool, and when they did, it meant something was wrong with the entire planet. The saiyans he saw running a riot around the streets frightened him greatly. Not the same kind of fear when you wonder if you're going to live or not, but the fear when you know that something is deathly wrong.

            Quickly he dressed, wanting to know what was up and what he had missed as he slept in the early hours of the morning. He barged down the steps, grabbed something quick to eat, and was instantly out the door.

            He grabbed a passing saiyan he knew by sight but not by name by the arm. "What happened?" he asked, his tail shuddering in alarm.

            "You didn't hear?" the other saiyan asked. Gohan merely shook his head. "There has been an attempted assassination on Prince Trunks and King Vegeta! The healers aren't sure if they'll come through it or not."

            Gohan stared at the saiyan, dumbstruck. This was worse then even he had planned. "Wha?"

            The other saiyan's eyes narrowed in loathing. "That bitch. Think she can kill _our_ King," he snarled, and was gone.

            Gohan went dead cold. The only female in the palace that he knew of was-… was Pan. There was only one thing left to do-go to the palace.

            Gohan sat at a desk, his head in his hands. A commander had explained the facts to him, and what had happened. All the facts pointed to Pan. Every single one of them; not even one was in her favor. _But… how? Why?_ His mind raced, trying to think of why, how, or any answer he could come up with.

            He could come up with none.

            _But… my little Panny! She wouldn't… she couldn't!_ but another part of his mind thought differently. _I didn't think she could-or would-train, either…_

            "Son Gohan?" the commander said, breaking him from his thoughts.

            "Yes?" he asked, looking up.

            "We're going to have to… torture Son Pan… perhaps you would want to be there, to talk to her to get the answers out of her so we would not have to," the commander said.

            Gohan nodded shakily. "When?"

            The commander looked at his watch. "Soon."

            "Sir, a question?" Gohan asked.

            "Yes, Mr. Son?" the commander said.

            "How are Prince Trunks and King Vegeta?" Gohan asked.

            "Well, Mr. Son," the commander said grimly. "It is not certain yet. There condition is not stable enough to say."

            Gohan's hope crashed into icy waters. "O..k… where should I wait?"

            "Follow me."

            Pan woke up to the slamming of a door-her door-the door to the room she was in. Light from the hall flooded in, and she squinted, looking at the figures blocking some of the light. She sat up, cradling her wounded arm. When her eyes adjusted to the light, there was only one face she could see.

            Her father's.

            "Tousan!" she wailed.

            But, strangely, her father said nothing, standing stiff with his shoulders straight back.

            She seemed puzzled, and her pain filled mind could not comprehend his posture. "Tousan?"

            Two guards walked past Gohan, who would not meet his daughter's eyes. They slammed her against the wall, and her cry of pain echoed off the steel walls.

            "Pan," he said in a soft voice. "You better tell them what they want to know, or you're going to hurt even more."

            Pan stared at her father, utterly shocked. "But Tousan, I didn't do it!"

            "Pan, tell them."

            "I didn't do it!" she shouted, tears making fresh trails down her cheeks.

            "Pan, please don't do this to yourself. Make it easier-just tell them that you did it."

            "_I didn't do it!_" she shouted fiercely. She abruptly choked up a puddle of blood as a guard slammed his fist into her stomach.

            "Still think you didn't do it?" the guard sneered.

            A look of pure fear passed Pan's eyes as she saw the second guard pull something out of his pocket-a knife.

            "Yes," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I still _know_ that I didn't do it."

            "Pan, please. You always were stubborn, Pan, but can't you just admit you've done something wrong?"

            Pan's scared, frightened eyes caught her fathers, and held his gaze with one look Gohan would never forget-betrayal.

            She glanced away, and did not even make a sound when the guard shoved the knife into her gut. What did it matter now? Her heart was broken. No, not broken.

            Gone.

            The commander, who was standing behind Gohan, put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. "You might not want to see this," he said as he led him out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

            The old King of Vegeta sat in a chair in a balcony, looking at the garden below. A guard stood behind him, awaiting his answer.

            "Five hours? And she has not uttered a word?" the old king repeated.

            "Yes sir. She hasn't said a word, though her blood covers the floor," the guard replied promptly.

            "Hmm… that will be all for today. Let her rest, or you will kill her, and we will never know. Tomorrow find someone else for the job, perhaps the other two are not doing a good job," he said.

            The guard nodded and bowed, his right hand over his heart. "For the glory of Vegeta."

            "For the glory of Vegeta," the old King said, and then dismissed the soldier with a flick of his hand-he needed some time to think.

            He was the last male left in his bloodline-or so it seemed. He was not sure if his son and grandson would live or not. Someone was needed to rule, and he was the most logical choice. He would, of course, rule his planet-but that _girl_ needed to be dealt with.

            Ebony eyes opened, confused and bewildered. They were slightly misted by the blood that leaked into them, befuddling the environment around her. They darted about the dark room they had only just been accustomed to, trying to give the mind enough information to tell it where she was. One thought broke the peace of her mind-

            _Where am I?_

            She tried to sit up, but failed miserably. Having to be content to stay on the floor, she waited until some force other then her own would decide what she would do, for she had no strength to decide-or care.

            Then, suddenly, one memory appeared in her mind. She could not remember where she lived, where she was, or even _who_ she was, but she could remember his eyes-defeated, sullen.

            Betrayal.

            Her mind lost its grasp of this thought and it faded back with the others, unnoticed and forgotten.

            **Author's Note: I know, I know, this is REALLY late. I'm so so so so sooo sorry! After vacation I came home and went straight to sleep (I got home late) and then on Monday I had Track Championships and when I got home it was like seven o'clock, and I was really tired because I didn't eat since last Sunday evening. (I had to be under 105 pounds to run the 75 meter sprint… I did it, though! Yippie!) But now that it's over, Chapters should be up faster. Hopefully I can get two up today ^-^. Well, Chow!**

**            Oh and another note on the chapter- I know you're all thinking that Gohan would have never doubted his daughter, but look at all of the evidence on Pan. Also, He is beginning to doubt his ability to know his daughter the moment he found out she had been caught training. All right?**


	11. Don't Let Go

Chapter 11

Don't Let Go

            Gohan sat in a chair, staring at the ground disbelieving. "How could she?" he asked no one. "How?"

            The commander, who sat across from him, said nothing, letting the older saiyan sort things out for himself.          

            "Why?" he asked again. "She had no reason to. I just can't imagine she'd do such a thing…. _Why?!_" he suddenly shouted, slamming his fist down onto the ground, his fist making an imprint in the floor.

            The commander flinched at the sudden, loud noise, then decided it was time for this saiyan to go home. "Mr. Son, why don't you take a break and go home-think things out. We'll call for you if we find out anymore information."

            Gohan looked at him and nodded once. "Do you think you could show me to the door?" he asked in a quivering voice. "I'm not sure I could find it."

            The waiting. She could remember the waiting.

            Waiting for someone, anyone, to walk into the dark space she was in. But no one did.

            Coal black hair matted her face, crusty with blood. Her shirt had thick, brittle patches of dried blood, as did her pants. She could only sit in the crumbled heap she was in and wait.

            She couldn't understand why no one came. No one. Her mind, filled with pain, could not comprehend the facts that lay before it in plain view. The only thing she did understand was that she had done something wrong.

            But what?

            Doctors scurried around checking on monitors and screens frantically. Then ran about, trying to do things as quick as possible-time meant everything at this crucial point. Their patients were too important to lose.

            What made it worse was that they had to do everything the old fashion way. No rejuvenation tanks, and no high-tech equipment-their condition was not stable enough for either, so they were back to IV, bandages, rest, and time.

            Maybe too much time, or not enough-It depended on who you asked. The time could draw on and on, multiplying the worry and fear, and it could also be too short. Everyone wanted their King and Prince to live longer.

            But now, that time seemed so terribly little.

            Prince Trunks lay on a bed, and the report on his injuries was finally coming in. He had uncountable gashes and puncture wounds everywhere on his body, and there were multiple broken bones and ribs, not to mention the occasional bruise. Several doctors flocked around him, bandaging wounds and putting ointment on gashes and cuts, keeping a mental check on the amount of blood he had lost, and how much he had left, as others watched the pressure in his head formed by the severe concussion.

            King Vegeta faired no better. His physical appearance had not changed-but the internal did. Somehow, someone had managed to stop his heart from beating, causing his muscles not to receive the pumping blood they so desperately needed. The doctors and scientists were completely boggled on how this happened and knew only one thing-it _did_ happen, and they had to keep their King alive.

            It was what they were born to do.

            Dark seas of swirling blackness surrounded him, confusing his already baffled mind. He couldn't remember anything as his mind floated about in the black void of space, swirling, spiraling. There were vague memories in the back of his mind, but he could not grasp them to bring them to the front where he could view them.

            He tried to grasp his thoughts, but the harder he tried the farther away they got. Defeated, he stopped trying to reach for goals he could not obtain and relaxed back to the darkness, the nothingness.

            At the sound of he door, as if beckoned, she awoke. She looked at the figures questionably, and blinked, as if I would help her recognize the people in front of her. It didn't help in the least.

            One, a man, stepped towards her. Instinctively she flinched back, without knowing the reason why. She had nothing to fear from them-or at least that's what she thought- yet she cringed when they took a step near her. When she saw something gleam in the man's hand, she immediately knew why she had cowered.

            It was a blade.

            She scooted herself as best she could up against the wall, but her numerous injuries prevented much movement on her part. Unfortunately, it did not prevent the man's.

            The knife sliced through the air, leaving yet another gash across Pan's cheek. A muffled cry of pain escaped her, more like a whimper-she would not scream.

            She knew for some reason that she did not want to scream to these people, that she did not want to cry. All she knew was that she had to hold out.

            Well, whatever she was waiting for, she wished I would hurry.

            The blade was all over her at once, and she could not tell one section of pain from the other. She knew one thing-the pain was there, and in 'gracious' supply.

            Not only was the blade used on her, but so were other things. Her mind was too blurred with pain to identify them, but they did not cut or leave open gashes, they left bruises and broken bones.

            And pain.

            Awakening to pain, living through pain, and going to sleep to pain-it was almost like air-but air was something she needed. Pain was not.

It seemed as though pain was her knew best friend.

            Not, though, that she could remember what a best friend was.

            She could remember being asked a question, but she could not hear it correctly, nor would I matter. She couldn't understand anything anyway. They were screaming it at her, and she could only blink her eyes, as if she didn't know what they were talking about.

            Well, for that matter, she didn't.

            But she kept to her word. The pain ripped through her body, racing through ever fiber, and her head was swimming-no, drowning- in pain. But still she would not cry out, and she held on to her life like a dog held onto its bone-she would not let go.

            **Author's Note: Yes, the second chapter of the day, hope you enjoyed! Look for the next chapter tomorrow, all righty? **

**^-^**

**And once again, thank you so so so so SOOOO much for the reviews! I love each and every one of them. ^-^**


	12. The Awakening

Chapter 12

The Awakening

            The girl had not spoken in the last 24 hours. In fact, she had not spoken in the last 48 hours, nor in the last 72 hours, not even in the last 96 hours.  In total, five days had passed and she had not said a single word. Not one, single word. Her remarkable talent for taking pain was beginning to get tiresome.

            But he figured that it didn't matter now. The girl could not stand, sit up, or move, for that matter. She was barely alive, clinging to a single thread of life-and she hung to it dearly. Reports had said that she could not even open her eyes. He now wondered if the last two days were a waste-she probably could not understand what they were saying to her, let alone answer. She would probably never walk again, much less live.

            But then again, his son and grandson were in the same condition.

            No one did something to the Vegeta family and got away with it. No one.

            Another thing that he pondered was why she could hang on to live the way she did. She was, obviously, only female. He had never encountered any female that had not told everything on the first day of or torture, let alone not wail in pain and fear. But yet… yet this female had not made one attempt at a sentence, not at the start and not at the finish, nor had she cried. She took the pain as it was given, and had lived.

            This is what he found so astonishing. Not even _his_ mate was this strong. But then again, he had heard that she had been caught training-but a woman could not be that strong-

            Or could she?

            He shook the thoughts out of his head as he walked along the corridors to the informatory to see his injured family.

*******

            The swirling darkness was whirling around him yet again, but this time it was not as thick. If he tried, he could make _some_ progress through it. Not a lot, but some.

            The first memory he encountered he grasped at, and for once actually caught it. Tugging the memory to the front of his mind, he could only perceive one thing.

            People. He had people looking up to him.

            His people? Friends? Family, fans? All of them? Which, he did not know; but now he had something to ponder as he waited for more memories to present themselves.

*******

            Gohan sat at home in a numb daze. When he came to think about it, it never occurred to him to move. For the last five days he remained motionless, and unfeeling. He did not think, he did not eat, he did not sleep.

            And it was beginning to show.

            The saiyan had heavy bags under his eyes, and only after five days he was beginning to show signs of weight lose and dehydration. Bit still he did not move. Nor think. Nor eat, or sleep.

            One thought continued to run a rampage though his mind, yet he paid it no attention.

            _Why?_

*******

            A victorious cry rang out from the harsh saiyan, one of the only resounding sounds he had heard the saiyan had make in a long, long time. The old King of Vegeta watched the saiyan bound into the room he was in.

            "My King," he said with a hastened bow. "They say that Vegeta, bless his soul, will live through the night! He will recover!"

            He could not help from breaking out in a grin. "Really now? When did they figure this out?" the old King asked.

            "Just now, sir. I was sent to get you," the man said in an excited tone.  

            _Hmmm_, the preceding King thought. _I have never seen him so excited before._ But he wiped the thought away and replaced it with the good news. "And… the prince?"

            "We are not so sure of him, sir."

            The previous king nodded. "Thank you. That will be all, Doshen."

*******

            As another memory drifted by, he grasped at it. He was getting quite good at it, now.

            He now knew that he was someone of royal status, and the people earlier were _his_ people, counting on him to awaken, but he did not know why, not yet. His people were counting on something else as well, but that remained another mystery.

            This memory, though, was different from the others. It was more of a vision, then a thought or recollection.

            _He was in a swirling darkness again, but this darkness was different. He was spiraling around at a dizzying speed, and he was_ cold_. So unbearably cold. And he was getting colder still._

_            Yet he continued to twist and turn, and he knew there was a destination, but just not what or where that destination was. And he was pretty sure he did not want to get there._

_            Abruptly, a warm shock brought the spinning to a sudden halt. Slowly, he began to spiral again-but he twirled the opposite way that he was originally going. He was spiraling_ up. _And, surprisingly, he was getting warmer. Suddenly he stopped, and moved no more, and had therefore stayed in the same position, stuck in a whirling darkness._

            It was where he was now; he had no doubt about that. But what did the memory mean?

*******

            Niomi sat in the dungeon, pondering what she had heard. Could it possibly be true?

            They had said that Pan had tried and could have possibly succeeded in assassinating the King and Prince of Vegeta. Niomi believed her when she had said that she didn't do it, but the evidence was heavy… she did have a shred of doubt. And now they said that they had tortured Pan for five days, and _she was still alive._ Could it be true?

            Niomi sure as hell hoped so.

            She sat in her cell. _Be strong, Pan. You too, Prince, King. All of you, be strong so that you can come out together in the end,_ she thought to herself silently. She would not be able to bear to lose ay of them.

            And Pan… She had the whole planet against her, maybe even her father. The only person on hr side was herself. How could Pan live with so little hope? No one was praying for her, they were wishing her to a nice time in hell. Niomi could only send her hope to Pan, who was all-alone in the world, and would have to pull through it herself.

            No one would help her this time.

*******

            Surprised, he realized that the darkness was fading. Something was coming to focus; yet he could not make out what it was.

            Gingerly, tenderly, he was able to open one eye slowly, then the other.

            Faces were crowed all around him, watching him eagerly as memory flooded back into his mind. For a brief moment, he couldn't understand where he was, and who these people were.

            When it came to him, he grinned, and a cheer rallied through the crowd. "Long live the King! Long live the King!"

            _Their King lives,_ he thought with a joyous smirk. The excitement tired him quicker then he would have ever thought possible, and his eyes fluttered shut, as the celebration around him continued.

            Once word was on the street, it was like a wild fire. People ran down the street, screaming and laughing, chattering and singing happily. Food was everywhere, though surprisingly enough, it was kept in an orderly manner, and the party lived on through the night and until the wee hours of the morning.

            In fact, the party never stopped. Saiyans around the planet were rejoicing.

            Their King was still alive.

            **Author's Note: Thank you SO much for the reviews!!! You guys spoil me so much. Hey-I never said I didn't like it though!**

**            Sorry this was a little late too, I wanted to get it up yesterday, but didn't have the time (Track Championships again-but track's over now, and soccer is too ^-^ Yay!). Sorry about that, but I should have time now. Hey, I wanted to ask-should I up the rating to Rated-R for the violence? It's up to you guys, really. It doesn't make a difference to me.**

**            Also-I would like to thank ALL of my reviewers!!! I might have a contest up sooner, but I don't know what it would be about or what the prize would be lol. Tell me what ya think og the idea, folks!**


	13. Realization

Chapter 13

Realization 

            For the past week, Vegeta came in and out of consciousness, not being able to tell the doctors around him what had happened. Truth was, he was still trying to figure it out himself.

            His memory had just about fully returned to him, and he knew almost everything he did before the attack, with the exception of a few things. Some things were hazy to him, and others were crystal clear. The attack was one of the events that was hazy to him.

            He was returning to the dark, spiraling place much less of the late now, and had started to actually drift into a deep sleep rather then be unconscious. But, when he was in that seamless void of space, he thought about the attack.

            Both of them.

            One part of him was angry-enraged beyond angry- at Pan. But another part of his mind was telling him not to be, that he shouldn't be mad at Pan.  It was in one of the hazy parts of his mind.

            He just didn't know _why_.

            Pan, of all people, should be someone he wanted to murder with his bare hands. And he did want to-

            At least one part of him did.

            The other part of his mind was telling him that he was wrong; his mind very rarely told him that. He just didn't understand why he should be forgiving of Pan. Was he going soft?

            No, that couldn't be it. He figured finally that he must have gotten mixed up after the attack. It was the only logical explanation.

*******

            The old King of Vegeta, currently holding the position as King until his son made a full recovery, strode down the steps. His face was emotionless, as it usually was, as he descended into the darkness of the dungeons. It had been a month, and that girl had _still_ had not spoken, so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

            He ordered the torturers to slack off the torture for a bit, just so Son Pan could get her bearings. He wanted to deal with her when she was lucid.

            He opened the door to the room and walked in with a challenging grace. He saw a small, crumpled form in the corner, and formed a small ki blast on his hand to see better.

            When he saw her, he had to glance away.

            Her body was layered with gaping gashes and horrible, gruesome black and blue bruises. A few of her bones were broken, and they jutted out of her skin in a sickening way. Her hair had turned from its black color to blackish- deep red color, for her own blood coated over and in it. Her simple clothes were torn in various places, and her slumped posture made her looked like something that was anything but saiyan. But her eyes…

            Her eyes were what had caught his eye when he saw her being brought in by the guards. They had held a fierce, fiery spirit; a lively resolve flickered so strongly in them that gave her not only a determined look, but also an intelligent one as well.  His mate had the same qualities, as did his son's mate, but in this female they were amplified by a thousand.

            But, now, her eyes looked lost, confused. When she saw him, her eyes widened in panic in fear, like an animals'. She didn't know what was going on, who was who, and she probably didn't even know her own name, by the look of her.

            But her eyes had also lost their spirit.

            The fierce spirit in her eyes that had first caught his attention was gone. Her strong will and determination were gone from her eyes, despite his attempt to find them.

            _Oh well,_ he reasoned. _What she did to my family is unforgivable._

            But were they really? Was her remarkable will power gone? One part of his mind doubted it. She was still alive-by her own shear will.

            He pushed the thought out and got his mind to task. "Son Pan."

********

            She huddled into the corner, frightened and scared. The figure in the doorway studied her, and fear coursed through her veins. Why wasn't this man doing anything?

            "Son Pan."

            She cringed, then stared at the man. _Son Pan? Who is that…?_ She thought in a daze.

            _That's me._

            _That's me!_ Her mind rejoiced. I'm _Son Pan! Me!_ She had found herself, and all it took was two words. Memory was waking throughout her body, awakening her thoughts. Why she was there and what had happened was a thought she could remember and call her own.

            "What do you want."

            King Vegeta took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. How could she still speak? She spoke with a cool confidence. He looked into her eyes, and her fiery spirit was burning anew in them, though just not as strong. "I…" he stopped, then tried again. "I want to know why you did it. How."

            "I couldn't tell you," she said, her voice cold, harsh. "Ask the person who did it."

            The old King of Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "You've been asked time and time again. We know you did it. All I want to know is why."

            But Son Pan avoided his question. "How are they?"

            King Vegeta was becoming angered. She avoided his questions like _she_ was the one who was asking the questions! This was absurd. "Answer my question, girl!" he barked.

            "Answer mine."

            King Vegeta gaped at her. How dare she? He slammed his fist into her cheek, sending her back into the wall. "Answer your King's question!" he snarled.

*******

            Pan stared at him for a moment. It wasn't that she didn't respect her King, it was just that she felt that they should cut her some slack. Here she was, being tortured for something she didn't do. She had actually saved both the King and Trunks, and they tortured her! She just hoped that Trunks was ok so that he could tell everyone that she didn't do it.

            "You answer mine, and I'll answer yours," she replied, her stubborn nature not allowing her to give in.

            "Girl you are testing my patience!" he growled, but did not hit her again.

            "I know," she said with a smug smirk, challenging him.

            He glared at her, not at all liking the smirk she wore. "Girl, you're going to pay for what you've done to my family."

            "Why don't you ask them what happened?" Pan shot back. "They're smarter then you-they'll know what happened."

            King Vegeta's fist connected with her jaw, sending her back into the wall again.

            Suddenly a soldier appeared behind King Vegeta. "Sir?" he said timidly.

            "What do you want?" King Vegeta snapped.

            "Your son is awake. He wants to talk to Son Pan."

            **Author's Note: Interesting, ne? I thought so too ^-^. I l know it's a semi cliffhanger, but I the next chapter will be up by tomorrow. ^-^ Yay! Anyway, I can't thank you enough for the reviews… hey, should I have a 50th review special?**


	14. Devious Minds and Clever Swindles

Chapter 14

Devious Minds and Clever Swindles

            Two guards pasted King Vegeta and walked towards Pan. Pan lost her proud stance and shrank back into the shadows in a futile attempt to hide, her eyes frightened and scared again. The grabbed her arms and hauled her up, dragging her out of the dungeons. Both of her arms were broken, yet she did not cry out, and only gritted her teeth against the pain.

            King Vegeta watched, then turned to the solider still standing by his side. "Why does he wish to speak to her?"

            "I'm not sure, sir. His orders were only to get her, and did not tell us why," the soldier answered.

            King Vegeta pondered for a moment. "And… how is Trunks?"

            "Same as before, sir. No improvement."

            King Vegeta nodded gravely. "Dismissed."

            "For the glory of Vegeta," The soldier said, putting his fist to his heart.

            "For the glory of Vegeta," King Vegeta repeated with a nod and walked out of the dungeons, back to his quarters. He would let his son deal with the girl himself.

*******

            The dragged Pan down the hallway, and by this time she had already blacked out and hung uselessly, her feet dragging across the floor unceremoniously. The guards didn't seem to care as they dragged her down to the infirmary.

               Reaching the medical wing, the walked into Vegeta's hospital room and dumped Pan into a chair. They took their position by the door with their hands clasped in front of them, awaiting Vegeta's orders.

            Vegeta watched the guards carry the girl in, but did not wince at the sight. He had known that she was going to look like this, though it was a little past the likelihood. Knowing that she was unconscious, he waited for her to wake up patiently. He himself had been unconscious much of the late, and today was the first day he could even sit up-and he would find out exactly what had happened. For some reason, he felt as if Son Pan could tell him. He couldn't say why he felt this way-it was one of those things that just _was_.

            Tolerantly he waited, and when she awoke he was disappointed. She shied away from the guards, and wouldn't take her eyes away from them, watching them cautiously.

            Pan watched the guards warily, waiting for them to make their move towards her, for she knew they would. Fear coursed through her, thought it did not show on her face-only in her eyes. She felt trapped in this small room, the guards blocking the only exit. Her eyes darted about, calculating.

            Vegeta's tail thumped on the bed in exasperation, and crossed his hands in front of his chest. Suddenly an idea struck him- if he could get the guards to leave, Son Pan would be more willing to talk. "Guards, you are dismissed," he said.

            "But sir," one protested, "She could try to attack you again…"

            "Look at her," he snorted, amused. "She can barely sit, let alone walk. I can handle myself."

            "But… she could blast you, sir…"

            He snorted again. "She's just as powerless as any female. Besides, she wouldn't know how to make a ki blast anyway." The guard fidgeted, as if he wanted to say more. "Satisfied?"

            The guards nodded reluctantly and walked out the door, leaving Vegeta to talk with Son Pan alone.

*******

            Vegeta watched Son Pan eye the guards as they left, and he noticed that she relaxed-at least visibly. "So we meet again, Son Pan."

            She stared at him for a moment, and he feared that she wasn't going to answer-or maybe she couldn't. She nodded her head once-if was a small, stiff nod, but Vegeta saw it.

            "So how's it like to be the one who is vulnerable?" Vegeta asked with a smirk.

            "You might as well ask yourself. You seem in no better condition then me," came Son Pan's rigid reply.

            Vegeta narrowed his eyes. "I'd watch my mouth if I were you, girl," he snapped.

            "Or what?" she asked with a taunting smirk.

            Vegeta grinded his teeth together in anger, glaring at her. _I do not frighten her!_ He thought, almost amazed. "You won't see the light of day ever again- you'll be down in those torture chambers. And you'll father will be as well," he growled.

            She gasped-or tried to, with broken ribs. "You wouldn't!"

            Now it was Vegeta's turn to smirk. "I would."

            Her glower did not falter as she clutched her chest in pain. "How's Trunks," she managed in between breaths, hoping to change the subject.

            "That's _Prince_ Trunks to you," Vegeta snarled.

            Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "I'll call him whatever the hell I want to."

            "I don't think so."

            "Well I do," she growled.

            Vegeta glared at her once more, and she glared straight back at him, her tail lashing behind in anger.

            "Trunks, Prince Trunks, I don't care who the hell he is, I want to know how he is!" she said in a surprisingly loud voice for one in her condition.

            Vegeta was shocked, to say the least, and for some reason, he told her. "Not good."

            She had seemed to calm down. "Are you serious?" she asked, and her voice sounded sullen.

            "I kid you not," he muttered, confused about why he was doing this at all.

            She looked up at him with a small smile. "Thanks. That's all I wanted to know," she murmured, and her chin fell forward to rest on her chest- she was unconscious.

            Vegeta stared at her, both angered and impressed at the same time. Here, he was supposed to be finding out what he wanted to know, but all along she was manipulating him to answering _her_ questions!

            He had been tricked, and there was no way to get her up now.

            **Author's Note: lol, sorry about that cliffhanger (last chapter) I didn't think it was _that_ bad. But, you guys convinced me otherwise so I updated as soon as possible, but it's a little short. I hope you like it!! I already have the next chapter planned out, so it might even be up today! It depends. I feel bad about not giving you guys _any_ chapters on the weekend I went away, so this will make me feel better. ^-^**

**            And as always, review!**

**THANKS!!!! ^-^**


	15. Critical Condition

Chapter 15

Critical Condition

            "Sir," a timid doctor said to King Vegeta, "I have good news, and I have bad news."

            "What?" he asked.

            "Well, your son should be able to walk in a few more days."

            "Ahh… good. And… the bad?"

            "I'm not sure if Prince Trunks will live through the week."

            "Why?!" King Vegeta growled. 

            "Well, uh, you see, my lord," the doctor stuttered, "He hasn't been getting any better, and he's lost so much blood…"

            King Vegeta took a deep, calming breath. It would do him no good to be less one more doctor-he needed all the doctors he could get. "Anything we can do to help?" he asked.

            The doctor shook his head. "No sir. The only thing we can do is wait."

            Pan awoke in the dungeons, but her hope was renewed. Trunks had not died, like she had originally thought, and was still alive, if only just. She would fight for life as well, if Trunks was.

            And then, when she got out of here, she would go find the murderous bastards that did this and rip them apart limb by limb.

            Pan propped herself up against the wall in the most comfortable position she could muster, closing her eyes from the cruelty of the dungeon. It was time to sleep, whether she wanted to or not.

            Gohan sat on his couch. He had eaten, yes, but not much. And he had thought, but not much. He even slept.

            But not much.

            He knew that King Vegeta had awakened, and he knew that he would be all right, which gave his battered body some small relief.

            But he also knew that Prince Trunks was not as well off as the King was, and that took the small hope he had and ripped it to shreds savagely.

            A head fell into waiting hands, tears coursing down cheeks that had aged so much in just one week. A stifled but defeated sob arouse, echoing in the silent house. 

            He had tried so hard to raise his daughter to be the best she could be, raising her the only way he knew how. But, suddenly, one faithful day his years of raising were thrown to the wayside when Pan had made the decision to train. Getting caught training was just a tiny step in the headlong leap she took into serious danger.

            And he had failed to stop her.

            "I'm a _horrible_ father," he muttered, staring at the carpet. "And it shows."

            Vegeta was now able to walk and get around the palace on his own, and had resumed the role of King once more, his father having no complaints about stepping down. Vegeta's strength was limited, and jogging, running, jumping, and flying were all out of the question. This, of course, angered Vegeta, but he was content he got away with his life, and knew that he would be in tip-top shape in no time.

            He made his daily rounds through out the palace and went through his usual daily schedule, as if everything was a-ok.

            But it wasn't, not at all. His son was clinging to life, on the verge of death, and he could not do a damn thing about it. Putting on his usual scowl and smirk, he walked through the halls of his palace, assuring everyone that Trunks would pull through. He had to keep his peoples spirits up, even if his were not. That was one of his jobs as King.

            But the people knew everything was not as good as it sounded. They were ordered to keep the activity and noise down to a low roar, and they knew it was to give Prince Trunks every possible chance to recover. He was on the brink of death, and they obeyed gladly.

            As Vegeta strode through the halls, his people held him in high regard, respect and awe filling their eyes-they were proud to call him their King. Their bows were done gladly, happy to have him alive and walking. They just wished they could do the same for their prince.

            But things weren't always that easy. That traitorous bitch-saiyan who was responsible for all of this was still alive and did not feel the pain they did. She would pay for everything she had done, and the saiyans of this planet would feel no regret to how it was down. She was paying her deed back-with her blood.

**            Author's Note: Awww, poor Pan!! Now everyone hates Pan-how is she going to pull through? If Vegeta does not remember that she helped him, and Trunks won't wake up, what is to happen to Pan?**

**            Find out in the next chappie! ((Oh no! the reviewer's language has now caught onto me! _Chappie_?!… Oh well…)**

**                        Next Chapter:**

**_Silent Tears_**

**            As always-Thank you so much for the reviews! You don't understand how inspiring they are! I swear, when I read your reviews, I just want to write more for you guys! (And no, this is not some cheap way to get you to review-That's the truth ^-^)**


	16. Silent Tears

**            Author's Note: Before you read, I would just like to say this- This has to be one of my absolute favorite chapters so far. I don't know why, it just is. Ok, I'll shut up now so you can read what you've been wanting for!!!**

Chapter 16

Silent Tears

            Monitors became a beeping frenzy, alerting the doctors that something was deathly wrong. They rushed to the side of the hospital bed, checking their patient. The prince was breaking out in a sweat, his temperature rising from the normal 107 to the scorching temperature of 116. Any higher, and…

            His heart rate was rising, causing panic in the medical wing. They quickly contacted both father and grandfather-this may be the last time their prince was ever with them.

            Vegeta slammed open the door, furious. He had no really reason to be mad, and really had no one to blame-except Son Pan. But now wasn't the time to go down and beat her to a bloody pulp-though that's was his heart was telling him to do. His mind was screaming at him to calm down, and his experience as a King told him that sometimes, he had to listen to his head, not his heart.

            His father followed in right behind him, having the same, suppressed anger his son had. His eyes had a dangerous set to them, and the doctors scurried out of his way, not wanting to be in the reach of his wrath.

            Their prince was dying.

            Eyes half-lidded looked about the darkened room, surveying it. Whatever had awoken her, had to be serious. She wasn't sleeping, she had been unconscious. Her eyes opened wider, allowing more light to pass through them. Alarm and panic passed through her eyes-no one was in the room to awaken her. The last time she had woken up on her own had been when both Trunks and Vegeta had been attacked.

            She was about to forget about it; what could she do about it if she couldn't even stand? But something that she couldn't label kept her awake. Her foggy mind tried to understand what was going on, but it wasn't quite working out the way she planned.

            Suddenly, it hit her.

            Trunks was living his last moments.

            Something awoke in her that she couldn't name, and that was the last thing she remembered.

            The guard yawned, leaning against the wall. He had worked here for years, and not once had he seen anything interesting enough to tell any of his friends. He yawned again. The only thing he could remember about this job was one thing-it was boring. It paid well though.

            The only vacation he had had was when the rebel, Son Pan, broken out of the dungeons on the level above this one he was currently on. He had cursed himself for that mistake; the only day he had a vacation was when something actually _important_ had happened. He sighed, think about it. Maybe he was lucky-the soldiers on guard had been severely injured. But at least it was interesting.

            Abruptly, something peaked his interest. It seemed that one of the ki's of one of the prisoners was rising. They did that occasionally, trying to break out, but the rooms had protections against that. He realized that it was Son Pan's room, and was surprised that she had that much energy.

            A defiant, angst scream rung out in the dungeon, echoing off the room. The guard never had the chance to call for help.

            Vegeta's eyes suddenly went up in shock. He had sensed a power that could prove a problem, but the shocking thing was that it seemed familiar to him, though he knew he had never sensed it before and had no clue who it belonged to. He glanced at his father, and in that small gesture his father knew what he was asking.

            "I don't know either."

            Vegeta nodded once, and kept a mental check on the power level. It was high enough to worry even him.

            When the power level took a turn towards the hospital wing, Vegeta was not willing to take chances. "Get guards. Have them surround the room," he barked, and people jumped to do his bidding. His power-level rose unconsciously as he waited for the ki to unmask itself.

            Suddenly the doors bust open, and the doctors scurried out of the way. Who Vegeta saw was the last person he would have expected-and the last person he wanted-to see.

            Son Pan stood in the doorway, her eyes furious. Her hair was flowing out behind her, her ki radiating off of her with a bluish light. She kept her weight off of her feet as she floated mere inches off the ground, her feet too injured to support the burden. 

            Her eyes surveyed the room, calculating the danger and competition. Her eyes paused on Vegeta and his father-but only for a brief second. They continued their swept around the room, and at second the room broke into complete chaos.

            Pan floated forward, slamming her power out, slamming the doctors and the guards up against the walls, pinning them.

            Vegeta and his father's power levels skyrocketed, though Vegeta was in no shape what so ever to be powering up or fighting-but at the moment, his son's life seemed more important to him then his own well-being.

            Pan glanced to them. A growl escaped her throat, low, dangerous, and warning, and her tail twitched behind her once.

            Vegeta retracted a step, surprised, knowing exactly what she was trying to say through her body language. A growl like that was a true threat of the highest kind, and her tail was a warning. Quickly he regained his posture, and his own tail was lashing behind him angrily. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish by being here," he snarled, "But it will be your death."

            "Are you trying to scare me, Vegeta?" she asked, her voice a cool, eerie calm. "Because I assure you, it's not working."

            Fury spread through Vegeta's eyes, and he gritted his teeth. "You'll regret that, woman," he hissed.

            "Death does not frighten me any more, my King. What you have done to me if worse by far."

            Vegeta smirked. "Good."

            King Vegeta glanced at his son, then back at Son Pan. "Be ready to die, woman."

            Vegeta looked her over again, and realized that Son Pan wasn't just angry. Silent tears coursed down her cheeks, dripping every so often off her chin. 

            "I already am."

            **Author's Note: *large wail* Poor Pan!!! What's going to happen?**

**            Cliffhanger's are great, aren't they? *dodges a chair being thrown at her* Look at the enthusiasm!**

**            Well, anyways, not much to say about this chapter. Later!**


	17. Haste Makes Waste

Chapter 17

Haste Makes Waste

            Vegeta seemed almost shocked by her answer, but it did not show on his angry face. "You're not going to finish off Trunks."

            But Pan did not answer the way he wanted, or the way he would have expected. "Move."

            Vegeta laughed aloud, though he wasn't exactly feeling humorous at the moment. This girl thought _she_ could order the king around? Ha! "I don't think so I-"

            An immense power slammed into him, knocking him right off his feet into the side of a hospital bed-he prayed fervently that it wasn't Trunks'. He struggled to his feet, still weakened by the attack, and looked to see how his father was.

            His father was much older then he was, and had not faired much different. He, instead of slamming into a bed, had been knocked back into the nearest wall. He pushed himself up, angered.

            Pan made an impressive ki blast in her hand as she stared at the two saiyans, her eyes lacking any emotion. "You move, or I'll throw this."

            Vegeta and his father started at her in shock. They weren't sure what to do-if she threw that, it was sure to injure something in the room, and that was a danger to Trunks. But, if they moved, then the path would be open for Pan to walk up to Trunks and do anything she pleased.

            Her voice was harsh and cruel. "Decide now, or I'll choose for you."

            Vegeta's mind raced, and was pulled back by his father. "We have no choice, son. We could be out one ruler, or all three." Vegeta knew his father was right, and let himself be pulled back.

            Pan watched them as she floated past them, up to Trunks's bed. She knew what she had to do, and was willing to do it. The only thing left now for her to do was, simply, to carry out her mission.

            Vegeta watched her, ready to pouch at any moment possible, though he was losing strength and energy rapidly. His father restrained him, though he wanted to do he same thing he was.

            Pan glided to the bed, and her eyes took in the sorry state Trunks was in.  Her eyes lost most of their anger, only to be replaced with grief. For a brief second the real Pan came back, and she leaned down, her mouth close to Trunks's ear. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

            Immediately she straightened. Not for one moment had she forgotten her objective, nor would she at this point-she had come too far to back down. Without a second thought, her pale but severely wounded hands reached for his chest with a slow but deliberate motion. Vegeta and his father flinched as one, thinking the worst.

            Pan's hands settled gently on Prince Trunks's chest, careful not to disturb him. She started to glow, a yellow aura billowing out around her and engulfing Trunks. The power increased, the sheets on the bed threatening to fly up in the air, and Trunk's shoulder-long lavender hair swirled about his face.

            Vegeta and his father watched, shocked and horrified. What was she doing to their prince? They could only come to one conclusion-she was doing the same thing she had done to Vegeta to stop his heart from beating. They watched, helpless, and not liking it at all.

            Pan squinted her eyes in concentration, her face contorted as she tried to channel and control the power that was coursing though her body to her hands. If she let it run wild, there was no telling what it would do-but she knew for sure it would not help. The golden aura of power radiated around her hands, feeding power into Trunks's battered body. Time seemed to play in slow motion, and even Trunks's flowing hair seemed to slow, though it really was whipping around his face. 

            She began to tire, and noticed that the room was swirling around her, making her dizzy, which made it harder to concentrate. Without thinking, she closed her eyes-leaving her vulnerable.

            Vegeta saw this just as soon as it happened and leaped forward, tackling her off the bed on to the floor. The guards and doctors on the wall fell to the ground, Pan's concentration, which was holding them up, broken.

            Vegeta's hand snaked around her throat tightly, and with his other hand he grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her in such a way so she couldn't move them. His eyes burned with anger and hatred, and his tail was lashing behind him like a whirlwind.

            Guards rushed around Vegeta and Pan, and the doctors swarmed around their patient.  Vegeta stayed put, but realized that Son Pan wasn't putting up much of a fight-she was unconscious. He stood up, watching the guards carry her away. "Wait."

            The guards paused to look at him. "Don't kill her-not yet." He glanced at his still-breathing son, then back at the guards and Son Pan. "I want to talk to her when she wakes."

            "But son," his father protested. "You have let her live once before, and she attacked you. You let her live a second time, and she attacked your son-again! She should die, and die now!"

            Vegeta shot a look at his father. "Father, don't you know what they say?"

            His father looked truly puzzled, and said nothing, waiting for his son to explain.

            Vegeta smirked and walked past his father to the door with the same, prideful step he strode with before the attack. "Haste makes waste, does it not?"

            **Author's Note: Yes, I know, it's short, but I didn't have much time today… sorry about that.**

**            Once again, thank you SO MUCH for all of the simply wonderful reviews!! I cherish them. ^-^**

**            Well, not much to say-until the next chapter, buh-bye!**

**THANKES!!!**


	18. Innocence

Chapter 18

Innocence

            Vegeta sat at a desk, thrumming his fingers loudly on the polished wood, waiting. His father stood behind him, and though Vegeta looked calm and collected, his insides were churning. With what, Vegeta wasn't sure of.

            They were waiting for the results from the doctors to tell them if Trunks was ok or not. If he wasn't… Vegeta was ready and prepared to kill-and it didn't matter who.

            Time dragged on, and no sign of a doctor came. Vegeta was becoming angered-and worried? His father leaned against the wall, waiting, his tail flickering impatiently.

            A doctor suddenly scampered into the room, shutting the door behind him quickly. His face was extremely stressed, and nervous that the King wouldn't take the news the way he hoped he would.

            Vegeta was an irritated man at the moment, and no sooner had the doctor entered the room did he questioned him. "Well? How is he?" he growled.

            "Well, you see-"

            "I have no time or patience for games! Tell me now!" Vegeta snarled, scaring the doctor right out of his skin.

            "Trunks is better, your lordship. Better then before, at least," the doctor slurred his words in his haste to get them out, and it took Vegeta and his father a moment to decipher them, and took another moment for the words to actually sink in.

            "…What?! How?! He was on his death bed before that blasted girl came in and tried to finish off the job!" Vegeta's father said defiantly-he couldn't believe it.

            "We're not sure, but he is better off then he was. They say…" the doctor took a breath to organize his thoughts, and began again. "They say that he'll most likely live." Vegeta could only stare at the doctor, his eyes incredulous. The only thing he knew was that this had something to do with Son Pan.

            The doctor fidgeted nervously, not liking to be in Vegeta's line of sight. As soon as Vegeta dismissed him, he dashed out of the room as fast as he could. Vegeta seemed not to notice, not with the daze he was in.

            Vegeta looked to his father, and though he tried not to show it, relief shown through his usual emotionless coal black eyes. "Well… I guess I better get back to my regular schedule."

            His father did not miss the rare and unmistakable relief in his eyes. He grinned. "I suppose so."

*******

            Vegeta read a few reports at his desk a few days later, wanting to get back into the swing of things. The reports were both boring and annoying, but it beat walking around the palace. Though he would admit nothing-he was tired, both mentally and physically. The reports were a good way to rest his mind and his feet.

            He sighed, putting the pen down. Something was bugging him much of the late, and wouldn't let him work until he solved it. Resting his head in his head, he was free to relax-and to think.

            If Son Pan was supposed to be so malevolent, and so wicked because she had tried to destroy the King and Prince-then why did she heal Trunks? Was it a mistake on her part?

            If it was, he could tell. She hadn't awoken since she had passed out on the hospital floor, and he doubted she would awake ever again. She already had lost a tremendous amount of energy when she had been tortured, and when she healed Trunks the little energy she had summoned in her rage was gone, leaving her totally powerless-therefore, almost dead.

            But why did he care so much?

            Was it because she had caused him so much pain-not physically but mentally? Was if because she had tried to assassinate his son, and had almost succeeded? Was it because she, just a mere female, had over-powered his palace?

            Or was I because she was innocent?

            He sighed, and before he knew what he had done, he pressed the intercom button on his desk. "Hello? Send Doshen up to my office." He closed the line to him and the secretary, and then thought about what he had done, and what he now had to do.

            Doshen knocked on the door once and then opened it, bowed immediately to his King. "My lord. It's a pleasure to have you back."

            Vegeta nodded once, and then went back to his paper work so it would appear as though he wasn't too interested in the subject. "Doshen, I would like you to order the guards to stop torturing Son Pan and bring her up to the hospital wing," he said nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal.

            "WHAT?!?!" Doshen shrieked and nearly toppled over. He fell down heavily into a seat, starring with large eyes at his King. "My King, are you feeling alright?"

            "Quite well, thank you," Vegeta snapped. _No one_ asked the King questions. "Now do what I say."

            "But excellency! She tried to murder both you and Prince Trunks! You can't just let her walk away!" Doshen protested.

            Vegeta scribbled something down on a piece of paper, not bothering to look at Doshen. "She is my prisoner to deal with. If I say bring her to the hospital wing for her to heal, you will do it. Do you question what I say?" Vegeta growled, and handed Doshen a piece of paper with his signature on it, so Doshen could prove to the guards that King Vegeta _had_ ordered him to do this.

            "N-no, of course not, my lord," Doshen stuttered.

            Doshen took the paper with a trembling hand, and starred at it for a moment before he bowed and left. As soon as he was gone, Vegeta rested his head in his hands, not knowing what he was doing anymore, and realizing with shock that he didn't care.

*******

            Doshen walked down the hallway, very, very confused. Instead of going to the dungeons, like ordered, he walked toward the royal corridors. There was something he needed to do, and it needed to be settled now-and not a second later.

            **Author's Note: Ah! What's Doshen doing?!? Only Kami knows….**

**            *ducks another flying chair* I know you love the cliffhangers! Just calm down!**

**            Lol-anyway, thank you for the wonderful reviews!!! I've decided to have a 100th Review Special (If I get there) and no cheating to be the 100th reviewer!! ^^**

**            And, as always:**

**THANK YOU!**


	19. Revelations

Chapter 19

Revelations

            Doshen opened the door to the past King's room, hoping he wasn't in a foul mood. "Sir Vegeta?" he called out in the quiet room, and was answered by a muffled grunt by a figure sitting at a desk, working methodically. "I have come on regards of your son."

            "Yes? What's wrong?" he asked, turning around in his chair to look at Doshen. 

            "Well, sir, he wants me to order the torture to be taken off of Son Pan, and he wants her to be moved to the hospital wing," Doshen explained. "I fear that he may have left a part of his mind behind when he was recovering."

            Vegeta's father listened patiently and did not interrupt him. "Are you sure, Doshen?" he asked, his eyes cool and calculating.

            Doshen was glad that he was in a good mood. "Pretty much, sir. He seemed like he really wanted for me to do this, sir. Mayhap he's gone soft?"

            "Maybe, Doshen," he said, thinking carefully. "But, if I know my son the way I do, he's most likely fine. He usually has reasons for the things he does, even if no one else actually _sees_ these reasons." The older man chuckled. "But I'm sure he's fine."

            Doshen nodded, trusting the old king. "If you say so, sir. But if you don't mind me saying so, I'd like to keep an eye on him."

            "Feel free to do so, Doshen. I've never limited you before-now isn't a time to start either, if you are right about this."

            Doshen nodded, then bowed, and walked out of the room to retrieve Son Pan.

*******

            She looked out of the window with a sigh. Of course something was wrong with that man-but he was too stubborn to tell anyone, let alone her. _Stubborn prick,_ she thought to herself with a chuckle. _If he would just tell me, maybe I could help._ She sighed again and leaned back into the fine chair she was sitting in, looking up at the ceiling. She fumbled with the silken edges of her dress as she thought of what was wrong, but could come up with no valid explanations. _Oh well,_ she thought. _If wants to do this alone, he'll get no help from me!_

*******

            Vegeta threw the pen down on the desk in frustration. Now the whole palace though he was a joke! Just because…

            Well, what he had done _did_ seem pretty absurd.

             He sighed and put his elbows up on the table, letting his head rest in his hands. How was he going to prove to the whole _planet_ that he was sane?

            Suddenly an idea struck him. It would take time, he knew, but it was the only way to see if Son Pan really did try to kill him and his son. If he waited until Trunks woke, he would know if Son Pan did it or not-because if he didn't, no one did.

*******

            Gohan blinked a few times at the carpet, then sighed. He knew he couldn't go on living this way; he had to pick himself up and go on living life the way he had been, when Pan was… home. He just wished he knew why she did what she had done.

            But did it matter?

            He guessed not and stood up for the first time in weeks, stretching limp and unused muscles. He looked at himself in the mirror, and agreed that he was a sorry sight to see. The first thing he did was get a shower, but that did nothing for the bags under his eyes and his ribs that could now be counted. Dressing, he went downstairs to get something to eat, for the first time realizing how hungry he was.

            The meal he had was colossal- he emptied his refrigerator in one seating, and was still not completely full. He explored his home, eating everything that was edible. He felt a whole hell of a lot better-but still there was that emptiness of where Pan should be.

            "Son Gohan? Sir, are you home?" a voice called through his door. At the voice he froze, fearing the worst.

            "Yes, yes I'm home," he answered finally, standing up from the chair he had been sitting in.

            A guard nodded his head in greeting to him. "Sir, your daughter has been moved to the hospital wing. King Vegeta has called off her torture."

            "What?! Why?" Gohan said, both relived and confused. Wasn't she still guilty? That's what street talk had been saying, anyway. _Believe half of what you see, and none of what you hear,_ he quoted to himself.

            "I'm not sure, Mr. Son. But if you'd like to come in and see her, Sir, you've been given the thumbs-up…"

            "Of course I would! When can I see her?" he asked.

            "Now is good as any time, sir."

            "Lead the way," Gohan said, now hoping with all his heart that somehow, someway, his daughter was innocent.

*******

            The guard held the door shut for a moment. "Sir, I don't want you to be… appalled… when you see her," he cautioned.

            "Why would I be? She can't be that bad," Gohan said. "Now please, let me through."

            "If you say so…" the guard mumbled, and opened the door for Gohan, and against Gohan's judgment, he carried in a bucket that was on the shelf on the wall-just in case.

            It was amazing how fast Gohan's smile withered when he saw Pan. He turned to the side and bent over and vomited-right into the guard's conveniently placed bucket. After empting his stomach of the large meal he had just consumed, he forced himself to look at the figure lying on the bed-he couldn't even tell it was his daughter.

            His face a deathly pale, he looked her over-the amount of gashes and bruises she had was uncountable, not to mention the internal injuries he couldn't see. Blood had leaked out of her injuries and colored the white hospital sheets a sick shade of crimson. The contrast of Pan's snow-white face to the sheet and her clothing was nauseating, and Gohan's gut retched again, though there was nothing left to bring back up. Getting dizzy, he leaned on the wall for support, sinking down to the floor.

            _Dear Kami,_ he thought, covering his eyes with a wavering hand. _How in the world is she still alive?_

**Author's Note: I know, I know, this is very late! There was something wrong with my computer and fanfiction.net, and it wouldn't let me sign on to post. I thought you guys might want to read this compared to a 100th Review, so I posted this first-but there _will_ be a 100th review mini-chapter coming up. Oh, and by the way- (for the lack of a pen name) Silmir was the 100th reviewer! Thanks a whole bunch to everyone!!**

**            And another thing-I'll only be able to post every two days now, all right? We have graduation coming up, and the 'Eight Grade Social', or the 8th Grade graduation dance, and I have to prepare and everything… and then I have a like three parties to go to-so things will be a little hectic. I'll try to post if I can!**

**            As always,**

**THANK YOU!!!**


	20. Balancing Words

Chapter 20

Balancing Words

            Vegeta's father walked into his son's office, ready to settle matters on what was to be done with Son Pan. His cape billowing out behind him, he strode towards his son, his face grave and determined.

            "Vegeta…" he began, but was interrupted by a solider who wore a different symbol on his armor- Frieza's symbol.

            Taking a second look, Vegeta noticed that the soldier had green hair. On Planet Vegeta, green hair was unheard of, considered freakish by some, and it gave away that this soldier was not from Planet Vegeta.  He realized the solider as Zarbon, one of Frieza's right-hand men. "Greetings, King Vegeta," he said with a bow. "I have come on behalf of Lord Frieza."

            _No shit, Sherlock,_ Vegeta thought, annoyed. "What about him?" he asked, keeping the irritation out of his voice.

            "He has returned from Planet Kenosha, my lord," Zarbon said.

            _Shit,_ Vegeta thought. _I had forgotten about that, with all this ruckus with Son Pan and all…_ "Ah, that's right. What about it?"

            "He is satisfied sir, with the job your elite teams have done," Zarbon replied coolly, and it was obvious of the tensions between the two. "And he would like to know of your report."

            "Well…" Vegeta muttered. Where to begin? He decided to make it short and simple. "An assassin was loose in the palace and has Prince Trunks practically dead, and me as well- That's about it," he finished nonchalantly. He looked back down at the papers on his desk, as if the whole thing meant little to him.

            Zarbon almost toppled over in surprise, the shock clearly written all over his face. "T-that's… it?!" he asked, his voice several octaves higher in his nervousness.

            Vegeta smirked. "Yes."

            His father smirked behind him as well, pleased with his son's abilities to unsettle unwanted guests. This may not have been suitable in other courts of royalty, but it was very much so in his. There was now no doubt in his mind that his son was all right. "Anything else, Zarbon?"

            "N-no s-sir," Zarbon stuttered, and forced his bow, leaving.

            As soon as Zarbon was gone, Vegeta's cool, confident look fled his face as he sighed. Government was rarely about what was said, and was more about what was done, or what had happened. Letting an assassin run through his palace made him look exceptionally weak, not to mention the fact that it was a female who had been the assassin. Once Zarbon found that little treat of information, his weakness in the eyes of Frieze would grow. At times like now, he did not need that happening.

            His father knew what Vegeta was feeling at the moment-he himself had felt it often enough when he was King. He placed a hand on his son shoulder in understanding. "You have a hard path to walk, my son. Choose wisely." And with that, he left.

*******

            Gohan still sat against the wall, but his face had regained some of its color. "How in the world is she still alive? Dear Kami…"

            "I'm not sure, sir. But you do have one hell of a strong daughter, let me assure you."

            Gohan smiled weakly. "Thanks." He looked back at his daughter, then back to the guard. "Is Prince Trunks in any better condition then he is?"

            "Very much so. I'd take you to him, but I'm not all that sure that they'd let you in…"

            "Oh, right…" Gohan mumbled. Of course they wouldn't let him in-the palace was on guard more then ever these past few weeks, and not to mention the fact that he was the father of the suspected assassin. "Just send him my regards, please."

The soldier grinned lightly. "Will do, sir." The guard then stood up. He began to walk out of the room, and though he did not need to provide an explanation, he did so anyways. "It's my time to go, Sir. I'll send your regards to Prince Trunks on the way out."

            "Would you? Thanks," Gohan said weakly. The guard nodded and was gone.

            Gohan's head sank into his hands, now free to think his thoughts alone. He was torn between his feelings-relieved that Pan would now be taken care of, and worry of why his King had decided to do this. Did he have something more gruesome in mind? If he did, he didn't know how it could get any more gruesome then this.

            He didn't know what was happening anymore-first his daughter slipped out of his care, and then tried to assassinate both the King and Prince of her planet. Why she would do that, he hadn't had the slightest clue-but when she woke- _if_ she woke- he would have a talk with her.

*******

            Vegeta watched the crimson and golden hues of the sunrise the next morning-_at least some things are still peaceful, _he thought with a sigh. The sun rose slowly, giving light to the small forest he could see out of the window. He turned his head slightly, fixing his attention back on the meeting he was supposed to be listening to. People were screaming and demanding things-it wasn't your typical meeting. Vegeta leaned back into his chair, letting the others scream to their heart's content-anything he said now would either not be acknowledged or not be heard, so what was the use?

            Vegeta looked to the crowd assembled there. The 12 council members from Planet Vegeta were seated to the left and right of him, and Frieza and Zarbon sat at the other side of the large, round table.  There was only one empty seat in the room-the one beside him. Prince Trunks's chair.

            Planet Vegeta was divided into 4 different regions- Toshihiro, Jun, Kiyoshi, and Rithisak-and each region had 2 minor lands within it. The minor lands had a ruler, who obeyed the leader of the region, but they were all ruled by one leader-himself. His word was law. They lent their council in important times-during treaties, wars, and in times like this-attempted assassinations. He would have rather had a meeting with the council alone, and leave out Lord Frieza… but in that, he had no choice in the manner. If Lord Frieza decided to come, he came.

            Komoku, the leader of Rithisak, had just finished shouting out an idea, trying to be heard over the others, and he was practically successful- his voice was the kind of voice you _had_ to listen to, and the others had quieted. Vegeta put a hand on the man's chest and as he himself stood, the movement pushed Komoku back into the chair behind him.

            "Now," Vegeta said in a louder then usual voice, and the entire room quieted completely. He smirked slightly at the response-it was exactly what he had wanted. "Times are hazardous at this point in time. The deeds have been done, but I doubt the assassins will leave this alone unless the royal family is dead, or unless they are. They must be found."

            "_They?"_ Raiden, the ruler of the minor land Rona in Rithisak, gasped. "What do you mean, _they_? I thought there was only one!"

            "Now Raiden, be sensible," Vegeta said. "Do you think that a single female would have the intellect to carry out a scheme like that? There must be more of them."

            Raiden was silent as he studied the papers in front of him, but Vegeta did not ridicule him for the questioning. "They must be weeded out of the innocent. How is the question we must come up with an answer today."

            The leaders of his planet nodded solemnly, and Lord Frieza just watched with calm, cool eyes. Vegeta's eyes scanned every one of the faces around him, making his point clear.

            His eyes stopped on Cagn, the leader of Vailea in Kiyoshi. The man was a shy saiyan, and was relatively young. Most of the other didn't listen to what he said, if he said anything, but his ideas were clever and to the point. Cagn was fidgeting, which meant he had something to say, but was too timid to say it.

            Vegeta did not loose his temper with the young saiyan, for he knew this was how he was and couldn't change it. "Cagn, what do you think?"

            Cagn looked around at the multitudes of people, then spoke up. "Well, my lord, if you had a celebration of some sort when Prince Trunks- Kami bless his soul-got better and you both were there, it might tempt the rebels to present themselves."

            Vegeta thought about it for a moment. "You know, Cagn, that just might work. The details could be worked out later, but the idea is simple enough to work.

            "What do you think, Kazuo?" Vegeta asked the leader of Nhean in Toshihiro.

            "Well, your highness, it's a brilliant plan. It has some faults, but they could be worked upon," Kazuo answered truthfully.

            "Any ideas, Jiro?" Vegeta asked. Jiro was the leader of Akio, the other minor land in Toshihiro.

            "Heavily guard the entire palace, but keep them hidden," Jiro said. "Use the best stealth guards you have."

            Vegeta nodded, the scanned the room. "Any other ideas?"

            "Why don't you just kill the little monkeys until one of them squeals."

            Vegeta turned an icy glare on Frieza, but kept his anger in check. If he did anything against him, there was no telling what Frieza would do to his people. But, still, he could not let something like that go unsaid-it would be a sign of weakness on his part. Balancing out the two was the most difficult thing of being a ruler that he knew of. He pushed Komoku down into his seat before he had the chance to fully stand-he knew that Komoku, who was known for his temper, had been about to tell Frieza what was on his mind, and Vegeta couldn't have that, not in his court.

            "Because," he said slowly, fighting to keep his voice level, "It doesn't have to be the 'monkeys'-it could be the green-haired freaks as well," he finished, and strode out of the room, leaving Zarbon to watch him leave in both hatred and shock.

            **            Author's Note: Yeah, I know, this is a little late-sorry. The dance was longer then I thought it would be. I'll give you one chapter today, and another tomorrow, all right? After that, it's back to the every other day schedule. Kay?**

**            Anyways… like the chappie? Oh, that's right-someone asked if this is a Pan/Trunks story-You betcha! ^-^ you'll see what happens.**

**            Once again-**

**THANKIES!!!!**


	21. Mother

Chapter 21

Mother

            The council watched their King walk out of the room, and nervous, angry glances passed throughout them. Kadmos, the leader of Jun, was taking on the role of holding Komoku down as their King exited the room.

            The room was silent, an eerie silent, unsettling the saiyans in it. Rarely this happened between the two leaders, and when it did something big was bound to happen-and it wasn't pretty. At least, not for the saiyans.

            But they were at least proud that they could say that their King held his own. Not many people could say that.

            As soon as Frieza strode out of the room, the room burst into quiet, but angered talk.

            "I say we get ride of him. Blast him off this planet, anyway," Komoku was grumbling. The saiyans of Rithisak nodded along with him.

            "We can't, Lord Komoku, you know that as well as the rest of us," Shiro, the leader of Toshihiro, said.

            "Well at least we could try _something_," Raiden muttered. A few others nodded.

            "We could come up with a plan," Vidar, the leader of Kiyoshi said quietly, and most of them nodded.

            "We'll need Prince Trunks back first, before we do anything," Kadmos informed them. "If he could not defend himself, we would gain one weakness and loose one very able warrior."

            They bobbed their heads in agreement. "I could provide us with warriors," Raiden said, and Komoku nodded his consent.

            "I could bring my best healers here," Jiro, the leader of Akio, offered. "They could help out with the warriors as well as help heal Prince Trunks."

            The leaders of Planet Vegeta murmured their approval. The vote was not final yet, but they had decided that they would not let Frieza walk all over them-they were saiyans, and they were a force to be reckoned with.

*******

            Vegeta strode down the hallways, heated. He needed someone to talk to, and only had one person in mind. He didn't want to talk to an advisor, or his father. He walked toward his living quarters, absent-mindedly quickening his pace.

            He opened the door to the royal family's living quarters, and scanned it quickly, searching. He found the one he was looking for sitting next to the window in a chair, watching him calmly with those strange but brilliantly marvelous blue eyes of hers. Her azure hair fell loosely past her shoulders, giving her a solemn, yet regal look.

            Wordlessly, he walked down the few steps into the room, and sat down on a large sofa, resting his head in one gloved hand.

            The woman looked slightly fretful. "What happened at the meeting?" she asked him. Vegeta briefly explained what Frieza had said during the meeting, watching his mate's eyes flare up with anger. "This doesn't look good," she muttered.

            He shook his head slightly. "With Trunks, and now this, I'm beginning to wonder just _what_ is on Frieza's mind…"

            "We can't let him think we're weak…"

            "It's a little late for that now, woman," Vegeta muttered bitterly. She narrowed her eyes slightly at his tone, but didn't challenge him. 

            "Do you think…?"

"I sure as hell hope not," Vegeta snapped, not liking the idea his mate was conveying. If Frieza was behind the assassination in someway, he might as well dig his grave now-if Frieza wanted something, he got it, no matter what it cost him.

            She nodded in agreement, then stood up, and walked towards the door.

            "Where are you going?" Vegeta asked, looking up from his hand.

            "To check on our son."

*******

            Bulma strode purposely down the hallways, receiving bows from the servants and guards. She dismissed them with a single nod, and continued down the hallway quickly. Call it mother's intuition, but she felt that she _had_ to see her son.

            She opened to the door to her son's hospital room, and shut it behind her quietly. Her eyes traveled to the form on the bed-her son. She was instantaneously at the side of his bed, fretting like only a mother knew how.

            Trunks's face contorted in pain, his teeth clenched, and his fists grabbed the sheets on the bed. Bulma felt her eyes get misty-she hated to see him like this. She placed a soft, comforting hand on his, and she was comforted to see that he relaxed, his face once again sober and calm.

            Bulma watched, stunned, as her son's face looked puzzled and shocked. One eye-lid opened half way, then the other, revealing quizzical, ice blue eyes. 

            "…M-mother?"

            **Author's Note: Yay!! Trunks is awake!! *jumps around happily* Yay Yay!**

**            I know it's confusing with all of the council saiyans… if you would like me to put up a list of who rules what land, just leave that in a review, ok?**

**THANKS!**


	22. Questions

Chapter 22

Questions

            "T-Trunks!" Bulma's eyes widened, her restraints forgotten, and her tears tumbled down her cheek.

            "Mom… what's wrong? Where am I?" Trunks asked, trying to push himself up to a sitting position on the bed.

            "Trunks! Dear, nothing's wrong," Bulma said as she put a firm hand on his chest and pushed him down, unable to hide the racking sobs that overtook her.

            "Mom?"

            "Trunks, you're alive!" Bulma cried, collapsing on her son in a fit of tears-tears of relief.

            "What's wrong, mom? Where am I?"

            Trunks could see other saiyans crowding around him, watching him eagerly. Just _what_ was wrong? Why where they watching him like he had almost died? Memory slowly flooded back into his mind.

            He _had_ almost died.

            "It's ok mom. It's ok," he said quietly, but was not able to hug her back, his arms too weak and injured.

*******

            Vegeta had his head in both hands now as he sat at the edge of the couch, thinking. So many things had to be done, so many things….

            A voice broke him from his concentration. "King Vegeta!"

            Vegeta's face contorted into an ugly scowl. "This better be good," he growled to himself. Then, louder, he said, "Come in, soldier."

            The soldier slammed open the door, his face jubilant. "King Vegeta!"

            "Yes, yes, what is it?" Vegeta snapped irately.

            "It's Prince Trunks, sir!" the soldier said. "He's awake!"

            "What? _Now?_" Vegeta asked, his eyes losing their harsh look, his scowl disappearing.

            "Yes, now!" The soldier said, and then was gone, off to tell others the news.

            Vegeta got up and walked hastily out of the room towards the hospital wing. There were things he needed to ask that boy, and things that needed to be answered _now_.

            Vegeta slammed open the door, almost running to the hospital bed. He didn't need to push his way through the saiyans there, they parted willingly for him.

            The woman was in a fit of tears, her eyes glistening. Vegeta glanced once at her, then once at his son, who was, inconveniently, laying unconscious on the bed. He sighed-he hadn't made it in time.

            His mate collapsed against him, still crying in relief. With a rare act of kindness, he didn't push her away, letting her wet his shoulder as he only watched his son.

*******

            Vegeta sat on a chair, thinking. He had so many questions to ask, but so little time which to ask them. His tail swished calmly, but it would all of a sudden randomly jerk rapidly-the the true core of his feelings. Not even he, the master of masking emotions, could mask the emotions of his tail.

            Every so often he would glance up at his son, then at the monitors. He had ordered he doctors out of the room against better judgment, so it was his duty to make sure his son was ok, although he knew nothing about hospital equipment-but he didn't tell them that.

            Every time Trunks convulsed in pain, he flinched unwillingly. In the deathly silent room, the sound of anything was multiplied by hundreds; a pin dropping was like a thunderstorm. But, not only did he flinch at the sudden sound, but he flinched at the amount of pain Trunks was feeling to be convulsing every few minutes, when he shouldn't be moving at all.

            If he was feeling 'so' much pain, how much was Son Pan feeling?

            He pushed that thought out of his head, making a mental note of what question to ask first.

            "You better wake up soon, boy," he grumbled harshly, though the harshness was false. "I need to know who did this to you."

**                        Author's Note: Did'ya like? I know, it was a little short… but I'll make a long one soon I promise. **

**            Anyways…**

**                        I know, I know, I have to make the 100th review. Don't worry, I'm planning on writing it as soon as possible, I've just been a bit busy. I graduate today!! (June 13) Yippie! Lol. The Great Escape!**

**            Also:**

**I would like to say thanks personally to _Evil Child_. Thank you for the advice-It, of course, put a dent in my ego, but I think that's a good thing. ^-^. I'll try to explain where Bulma was, and develop the council members' personalities throughout the rest of the story-hope I can fix my screw up!  (If any of you are in the dark, check out _Evil Child_'s review. That should clear things up.)**

**            And another: **

**Thank you so much for the great reviews, _Fallen Virtue._ I love them. Seriously, you spoil me! And I love it! Lol Thanks for your heartfelt reviews!! I appreciate them. **

**                        I've now decided that every chapter, I will thank a different reviewer each time. Hopefully I can get to all of you, but if not, just know that your reviews do NOT go unnoticed! I cherish them all!**

**            And, once again,**

**Thank you so very much, everyone!**

**Quote: "_They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but is a thousand words a picture? Or is it just a thousand words?_"**


	23. Son PanInnocent?

**Author's Note: AH!!! I'm terribly sorry about the whole wait thing… Fan fiction was on the fritz with my computer and wouldn't let me sign on, even after it was fixed. …So I kinda got fed up with it and didn't go back… Thanks to everyone who e-mailed me! It let me know fanfiction was working… it wasn't working for ME though… stupid thing… *kicks fanfiction* Ow! *walks away hopping***

Chapter 23

Son Pan-Innocent?

            Vegeta woke with a start, not realizing that he had fallen asleep until he awoke. He hastily checked the monitors, and sighed with relief, knowing that nothing had happened while he had slept. He then glanced to his son, and forced himself to be patient. When he was injured, they were forced to be patient with himself, the least he could do was be patient with his son.

            As he thought, the sickening feeling in his stomach grew. If the assassin was not Son Pan then-

            -then who was it?

            Did he just want someone to blame when his son was attacked? If so, Son Pan was certainly the most logical person to blame…  She put herself in the right places at the right times… or the wrong places at the wrong times.

            He looked up suddenly when he heard the slight noise of the sheets moving on the bed, and realized with shock that his son was awaking. His odd, strange eyes looked at his own, then blinked a few times.

            "Father?"

            "Trunks," he said slowly, then stood up, walking over to him.

            "How long?"

            "How long 'what' boy?" Vegeta asked.

            "How long have I been out of it?"

            "Weeks. A month, I suppose. Who did this to you?"

            Trunks blinked a few times at his father. He was expected something more along the lines of 'Are you ok?' or 'You need anything?' but then he remembered that it was _Vegeta_ he was talking to, the king.

            Not his father.

            "Wha..?"

            "We had Son Pan relocated to the dungeons-"

            "What?! Why?" Trunks asked, cutting off his father.

            It was now Vegeta's turn to blink, astonished. "You mean you don't know?!"

            "Know _what?_"

            "She attacked you twice, and me as well…" Vegeta paused for a long, soundless moment. "…Right?"

            Trunks blinked at his father, then forced his voice to sound level. "What did you do to her."

            "You mean she didn't attack you?"

            "_What did you do to her_," Trunks retorted more insistently.

            Vegeta's eyes were wide with surprise. "But why did she have the knife?"

            "_What did you do to her."_

            "We had her tortured," Vegeta replied in the same, even tone.

            "For how long."

            "Almost the entire time you were unconscious."

            Trunks blinked, shocked, then adverted his eyes. In a soft voice he said, "What did you do with her body."

            "She's still alive-but only just."

            "Dear Kami, the guards went soft on her? I thought I'd never see the-"

            "They didn't."

            "And she's still alive?!" Trunks tried to sit himself up, but Vegeta pushed him back onto the bed.

            "Yes. Now rest."

            "But-" Trunks said, but did not have the strength to keep himself awake, falling back into a deep sleep, if so reluctantly.

*******

            Vegeta strode to the other side of the hospital, noticing with a mental wince that it was heavily guarded. "Guards!" He barked, and they stood in rapt attention. "Clear out of this area _now!_" The guards almost tripped over their own two feet as they tried to get out quick enough.

            Vegeta then walked into the room the guards were guarding- Son Pan's room. He almost chuckled-here the guards were guarding this place like Son Pan was some kind of lethal weapon, when in reality she was only a girl, and not the assassin they were looking for. Well, in that matter, it wasn't funny. Not really.

            He was surprised to see Son Gohan sitting; leaning against the wall-he hadn't expected anyone to be in here. He shrugged it off and walked up to him, his steel-tipped boots making faint clicks on the floor. He raised a brow when he stopped right next to him and Son Gohan said nothing, as if he didn't even notice he was there.

            Vegeta cleared his throat, then said, "Son Gohan."

            With the slightest incline of his head, he looked to see who it was, startled, then stood up and hastily bowed. "My King, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you where here, and I've been so wrapped up with-"

            "I don't want to hear it," Vegeta cut him off curtly. Son Gohan said nothing more, though he looked a little offended.

            "W-… what brings you here, my lord, if I may ask?"

            "Go home, Son."

            At this comment, Son Gohan burst out into quiet but insistent protest. "What?! Why? Don't I have a right to see my daughter? I-"

            "She's innocent." Vegeta glanced once at Son Pan, lying almost lifeless on the bed, the spun, walking out of the room, not glancing once to see the astonished, blissful look on Son Gohan's face.

*******

            Vegeta strode through the hallways, heading towards the meeting room. He wanted to talk to the council about a few things, and now that his anger had cooled over Frieza's comment, they could converse over that as well. They conversed, he realized, over just about anything. This would just be a new hot topic of theirs.

            Or would it?

            Usually it was, but this time the tables were turned. The topics now were on a much bigger scale then usual, and they had to do with all of Planet Vegeta, not just a portion of it. Maybe it _wouldn't_ just be a subject to talk about to them. Maybe they would genuinely care.

            But what troubled him the most was the fact that Pan _didn't_ do anything. She had just been in the wrong places at the wrong times. But how was he supposed to prove that to the other saiyans? They were truly set on the idea that Son Pan had tried to assassinate himself and the brat. How was he supposed to convince them that she wasn't the assassin? If he said that she wasn't, and the saiyans of his planet had no proof but his word, they would probably kill Son Pan their selves. Not because they wanted to go against his word, but to protect him if they though he was wrong.

            He promised to himself to keep his lips shut until he could think of proof that Son Pan was innocent. Keeping the brat silent would prove to be difficult, but he could manage.

            Suddenly, he felt a ki make its way towards the room he had just left no more then a few minutes ago-Son Pan's room. Angry, but not strong. Instantly he knew who it was, and he knew that keeping this saiyan away from Son Pan would prove much harder then anyone would have originally thought.

            **Author's Note: Ah-ha! A cliffy. ^-^ Don't worry though, the next chapter should be out by tomorrow at the latest. ^-^ Thank you, everyone!!! *ducks flying chairs and wooden spoons thrown by angry fans* Aw, thank you! I know you guys loved it! *grins***

**            Reviewer spotlight-**

**            Hey _Z_ thanks a lot! You've been here since the beginning almost, and I appreciate the reviews! Love 'em! Thanks a whole bunch!!**

**            Also:**

**            Thanks to _hotaru420_ (did I spell that write?)! You've always been there, and thanks for staying with the story ^-^**

**THANK YOU TO EVERYONE!!**

**_Quote: "The best way out is always through." _**

**_~Robert Frost_**__


	24. 100th Review Special

100th REVIEW SPECIAL

            **Author's Note: To tell you the truth, I never thought I would _ever_ have 100 reviews. I still can't believe I have 100 reviews. Your support pushed me to my limit, making me write on deadlines-and I couldn't hand in crap either. My work had to be at it's best.**

**            Thanks a bunch guys. I mean it.**

            Kelly: *sits at computer, typing patiently*

            .::Chains can be seen that connect Kelly's feet to the computer desk::.

            Kelly: Hmm… who can be my slave…Oh! I know! *Snaps fingers*

            .::Vegeta, seemingly pissed off, appears::.

            K: *squeals* Vegeta!

            V: Who the hell are you? Where am I?

            K: I'm the author-and you, sadly, are in my fan fiction.

            V: Fan fiction?

            K: *nods* Now get me some food! Me hungry!

            V: What the hell do I look like? A slave? *Growls* You do it!

            .::Kelly shakes her legs, which makes the chains rattle::.

            K: And how would you like to do that? If you don't do it, I'll have to get… *smirk* mean.

            V: Go to hell. I'm getting you nothing.

            K: You forced me… *snaps fingers*

            .::Smoke appears, and when it's gone, Vegeta is standing, wearing a pink apron that says, 'Kiss the Cook'::.

            V: ARGH! WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!?!

            K: *chuckles, then laughs uncontrollably* I got mean.

            V: ARGH! *Stomps off to the kitchen to find food*

            K: *calls* make sure it's something I like!

            V: *grumbles something*

            K: *chuckles, then goes on the Internet* Hm… let's see how Rebel's doing… *squeals* AH! 100 REVIEWS!!!!!!!!!!!! 

.:: Confetti falls from the ceiling, drowning Kelly in it::.

K: Hey! Ack! *head pops out of the confetti*

            V: *runs into room* What's all this screaming about?

            K: *grins* I have 100 reviews! _I have 100 reviews!_ YAY!

            V: *raises brow* Your point?

            K: *finds a pole and smacks him over the head* Who asked you?

            V: *rubs head, surprised that it hurt-then wonders where she got the pole from* Hmph. *peers over her shoulder* Let's see here… The reviewer is…Silmir? Is that a name?

            K: It's a Pen name, you dummy.

            V: *scratches his head, confused* …All right…

            K: *Laughs* All right Veggie-chan, you have to go back to the fic… looks like I'll have to find another slave…-er, I mean another 'helper.'

            V: *disappears*

            K: Okay…. Let's see… OH! I know! *snaps fingers*

            Evil Assassin: *appears*

            K: Only *I* can see him because only *I* know who it is! Now I get to torture him!…er.. or 'her.'

            EA: *goes pale*

            K: *smirks* One moment-I got to thank my reviewers-then we'll have a little… 'fun'.

            EA: *runs*

            K: *chuckles* You can't get far… Anyway, thank you SO SO much, everyone! I love the reviews-I don't know where this story would be without them! And thanks to Silmir for being the lucky 100th reviewer. Once again, THANK YOU! *runs off to chase the assassin, the chains that kept her to the desk mysteriously disappearing*

            EA: *screams like a sissy and runs*

            **            Author's Note: Don't ask me how there can be an Author's Note when the whole thing is basically just that-but nonetheless, here's one. Once again, thanks to everyone whose reviewed! And the next chapter should be out soon-so be on the look out! ^-^**

**Thanks a bunch, everyone!**

**_"Even if you are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there."_**

**_~Will Rogers_**


	25. Pan?

**Author's Note: Sorry for the wait! I went on vacation and didn't have the time to update before I left. I went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Anyone live there? That state ROCKS!**

**            Anyways…. Someone reviewed that they wanted the 100th Review Special taken out because it didn't 'flow'. No offense, but it's titled '100 REVIEW SPECIAL.' If you don't want to read it because it's genre is humor or because it doesn't make the story flow, then SKIP IT. It's not my problem you read it-all I do is write it and put it up. Oh-and if you're going to flame me-don't do it anonymously.**

**            Anyway, on with the fic!**

Chapter 24

…Pan?

            He strode quickly to the room; not having the time to waste-he could not let her get to the room before he did. If she did, Son Pan would have an even smaller chance of living.

            Yes, _her._ Yes, _she._

            Saiyan women were extremely protective of children, and it didn't even have to be their own. It had been heard of that they had fought to the death, in some cases, to protect their children, regardless of their fighting skill. And his mate, unfortunately at this point, was no exception.

            He caught her arm just before she walked into the room, ignoring the livid look on her face. She did not like to see the shape her son was in, and was going to make Son Pan pay, no matter if Vegeta had ordered against it or not. He caught her gaze with his own and held it for a few moments. He slowly shook his head. "No, woman."

            "Why not?" she hissed. "Look what this bitc-"

            "I said no," he repeated more firmly.

            She struggled to continue on, but she was no match for her mate's might, even if he was not at full strength. "I don't care what you say I-"

            Vegeta interrupted again. "Woman, how would it look if you killed Son Pan, when Trunks would like to himself, but is too weak to?" he snorted, not wanting to reveal the truth, at least, not yet. It was not likely that she would believe him anyway, so what was the use?

            Some of the anger fled her face. "I… I never thought about it that way…"

            "Of course you didn't," he growled. "You don't have pride, woman, nor do you understand it." Vegeta had to admit, his mate was wonderfully intelligent, but on matters of pride, she knew nothing about it.

            She now looked more insulted then mad-which what was Vegeta was aiming for. If she was mad at him, she would forget about Son Pan-and that was the major goal here. Not, he reminded himself with a mental smirk, to aggravate his mate.

            He swung his arm, forcing her to spin around into the opposite direction- away from the door. "Go back to the living room, woman, where you belong."

            Bulma growled angrily and huffed, storming away, as Vegeta watched with a smirk and a swish of his tail. Now that that problem was solved, he could continue his making his way to the council. He had to talk to them about Frieza-now.

*******

            Every waking moment was pain. Filled entirely and solely with only one feeling-pain, agony. It was a struggle just to open his eyes, let alone keep a straight face and talk. He had even considered giving up, but saiyan pride and pure determination would not allow him to do so, though sometimes he desperately wanted to. There was another reason why he had to fight to get better.

            Pan.

            Everything done to her was because of him. He had seen the guards torture people, and they were _very_ skilled at what they did. Very. The end result was not pretty, and to see it done to a female… that was just…. brutal.

            Pan had been tortured beyond all possible belief, and was still, miraculously, alive.

            But why?

            He knew she was hanging on to life by just a mere thread… by will power alone… but why hadn't she given up? The females he had known throughout his life were terrified by pain, and would do anything to avoid it. Anything. They would have turned themselves in, saying that they were the ones who tried to assassinate the royal family. But not Pan.

            But, then again, he reminded himself that Pan wasn't like the other females he had known.

            He knew that she had been through more pain then himself… and knowing the state he was in now he knew that she was going through more excruciating pain then he could imagine. He knew that when she woke up, she expected to be hated and sentenced to death for crimes that he was sure she didn't commit. _So why,_ he asked himself, _does she will herself to live?_ He pondered for a moment. _Just…. Just for the joy of living? If so, she loves life a lot more then anyone I know._ Suddenly he felt, almost, ashamed. _Even… even more then me._

            Trunks drifted back off to sleep, but this time his spirit to live was renewed.

*******

            Gohan was sprinting down the hallways, grinning like a madman. As soon as he was outside he flew home, delighted. Pan was not guilty! He was _not_ a bad father! She did nothing! Nothing! He was smiling from ear to ear as he shoveled food into his mouth… and then wondered afterwards if it was edible.

            He shrugged, not caring, and the flopped down on the couch, needing some sleep badly. Just before his eyes fluttered shut, his face fell. Yes, his daughter was innocent…

            But would she ever wake to know it?

                        **Author's Note: How'd you guys like this chapter? ^-^ Don't worry, Pan will be waking soon, and Trunks will be walking. I'm trying not to drag this out, but she can't just miraculously wake up-she's injured. She has to heal ^-^**

**            Next Chapter: _Donor._ Pan needs blood to heal, but she has a rare blood type. Who will be the donor? *cackles insanely***

**            Oh-if you want to be e-mailed when I update, just drop a review!**

**                        Reviewer Spotlight:**

**            Thanks to _Dark*Princess*Pan_ for all of your reviews! You've been with me for a while, if I'm correct. Hey, wait a min… you wanted to hit me with a flying chair!!… oh well.. Thanks for all of your reviews-and making me laugh ^-^**

**                        Also:**

            Thanks to PannyGurlly for your reviews too! You're one of my newest reviewers, and I appreciate your reviews! They were great-and funny too ^-^… adios? Lol 

**And, as always:**

**THANKIES!**

_"The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of."_

_~Pascal_


	26. Donor

Chapter 25

Donor

            Vegeta walked into the room and was surprised to see all of the council members there. They were, in turn, surprised to see him as well. Komoku turned to him, and being as brazen as he was, was the first to speak. "My King, we were just talking…"

            "As usual," Vegeta interrupted. He took his seat at the head of the oval table and looked at each and every face before he told a few guards to lock to doors and allow no one in. Not even Frieza. "We have much to talk about…"

            Vegeta was quite surprised when Vidar spoke up. "…Yes, my King, we do…"

*******

            Trunks eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light slowly. With a grunt of pain he propped himself up on his elbows, finally taking a look at his surroundings. The room was plain white, with many different kinds of medical equipment that he didn't care to know. A few doctors were scurrying around, checking monitors and such. _Probably on my stats,_ he thought to himself.

            "Oh! Prince Trunks, you're awake. You mustn't try to get up just yet, or you may ruin your changes of a full recovery," a voice said to him.

            Trunks turned his head slowly so as not to hurt his pain-filled neck, looking towards the speaker. It was a doctor, probably the head doctor. He nodded stiffly, and settled himself back down onto the bed. "When will I be able to walk again, Doctor?" he asked.

            "We can't tell you that, Prince Trunks," he answered as he filled out some information on a clipboard. "It depends on you."

            Trunks sighed lightly-he hated those kinds of answers, but now he suspected that there was really no other answer they could give him.

            "Ok, Prince, we're going to need to ask you some questions so that we can see the extent of the damage done to you."

            _What?_ He thought to himself. _There's nothing wrong with me… is there?_ He nodded again, but said nothing, blocking the troubled look from his eyes.

            "Your name?"

            "Trunks Briefs Vegeta."

            "Good. Let's see now… how about… Your mother's name?"

            "Bulma Briefs Vegeta," Trunks sighed in answer. There was nothing wrong with him, he was sure of that now, and it was like they were playing some sort of childish game to see how much he knew about himself. "I'm fine, doctor," he snapped, cutting him off from his next question. "Now leave me be." He had a back up plan as well-if the doctor would not leave him, he could just act like he passed out.

            The doctor opened his mouth to say something, then abruptly shut it, as if remembering that this was the _prince_ he was talking to, not a low class saiyan. He turned, and started to walk away without another word.

            "Wait," Trunks called to him. "How… how is Son Pan fairing?"

            The Doctor wondered why he would ask such a question, but did not voice his thoughts. "Well, Prince Trunks… I believe she is in hypovolemic shock."

            Trunks cocked a brow, not understanding the doctor's medical terms. "Explain, would you?" It wasn't a question, but a command-and the doctor knew it too.

            "Her skin is pallid and cold though she perspires, and her lips and nail beds have a bluish hue to them… Her heart rate has speeded up but her blood pressure is dropping… these are all symptoms of shock."

            Trunks blinked for a few moments, trying to digest the information. He was no great friend of Pan's, but she had helped him in more ways then one, and she had been hurt, possibly killed, on his account. That did not settle well in his already unsettled mind. He then said nothing more, looking the opposite way of the doctor, finding the white wall very interesting.

            Suddenly, he spoke, but did not turn his head. "Is there any available treatment?"

            "Yes… she would need replacement of the lost blood," the doctor answered.

            "…What blood type is she?" Trunks asked.

            "…AB, my prince."

            "Is that bad?"

            "For her case, it is," The doctor answered.

            "How so?" Trunks inquired.

            "Because it is a rare blood type; not many people have it."

            "How many is 'not many'?" Trunks persisted.

            "Well," the doctor said, fidgeting, obviously fretful, "There are only two people in the palace that I know that have this blood type… Son Pan, and…. And…"

            Trunks finished for him, his voice below a whisper.

            "…and me."

**Author's Note: I know I know, this chapter is short, but school's starting in a couple of days (Two, actually) And I didn't really have any time. I still don't. I don't know when the next chapter will be out-I'll try to make it long, but forgive me if it's not. Once I get everything in school handled, I'll be back ^.^ I'm starting high school, so….. You get the point. **

**Thanks!**

**_"To wonder is to begin to understand."_**

**_~Aristotle_**


	27. Problem Solving

**Author's Note**: Believe me, I know it's been a while since I've updated. School's been so busy it's not even funny. I'm _still_ busy, but I'm not going to abandon this story, so this is what I've decided: 

            I will update once a week, EVERY time.

If I don't, then you guys can flame me however much you want ;)

                        But just remember-I'm _not_ going to abandon this fic, no matter what.

            Well, you've waited long enough-on with the fic!

Chapter 27

Problem Solving

            Trunks walked down the long corridor, thinking of what he had to do now. He had tons of work to do, he knew, and he wanted to see how Pan was doing.

            "Trunks… I never thought I'd ever see you walk again, not after that _bitch_ attacked you," Bulma said to her son.

            Trunks winced at her tone. "Mom, you see, Son Pan-"

            Vegeta abruptly cut him off hastily. "Bulma, leave. I need to talk to Trunks." He glanced to Trunks, then back at his mate. "Alone."

            Bulma seemed angered, but after seeing the serious look in Vegeta's eyes, she turned abruptly and left.

            Vegeta then looked to his son. "Follow me," he said gruffly, and walked towards his office, not once looking back to see if Trunks was following.

*******

            "What did you want to talk to me about? Why couldn't you just tell me out there?" Trunks said as he walked into his father's office.

            "Because I didn't want anyone to hear what I had to say," Vegeta answered. "About Son Pan-you can't tell anyone she's innocent."

            "What?! Why not?" Trunks exclaimed.

            "Why do you think, boy?" Vegeta growled. "What would everyone do if you told them she wasn't guilty?"

            Trunks thought for a moment. "They probably wouldn't believe me…"

            "Right. Then what would happen?"

            "They… they would kill her."

            "That's correct, boy." Vegeta sighed as he sat down at his desk.

            "But… But she saved my life! I can't just let her be hated by the whole planet!" Trunks protested.

            "Sh-" Vegeta abruptly stopped, eyes widening slightly. If Son Pan was innocent, then that meant that her second 'attack' wasn't an attack at all-it was a rescue. "She saved you twice," he said.

            "Twice?" Trunks asked, taking a seat. Vegeta briefly explained what had happened. "Like I said, I can't just let her be hated by everyone," he muttered.

             "You're going to lead this planet into ruins," Vegeta  muttered. Trunks face fell, and he stared at the floor, saying nothing. "Look boy, I'm looking out for the safety of Son Pan. I made a mistake by sending her to the dungeons, and having her survive all this only to be killed by a loyal saiyan would be hell on her."

            Trunks was, to say the least, surprised. His father? Looking out for the safety of a _female commoner?_ Was there something someone forgot to mention to him? Trunks stood and left his father's office, not caring if he wanted him to stay or not.

            Too many things to count were running through his head. _I'm not a horrible prince! And I won't be a failure as a king. He's wrong. How am I supposed to prove to this whole_ planet _that Son Pan is innocent? How do I explain what she did?_

            He did not have an answer, and absently, his feet took him to one.

*******

            Trunks didn't realize where he was going until he got there. Upon opening Pan's hospital door, he wondered what he was doing here. _It's not like she'd be awake_ he told himself. _It's only been a week since she got new blood._ He shrugged. He figured that if his feet took the effort to bring him here, he should at least check it out. Maybe he could think of an answer while he was here.

            He walked to a seat and sat down heavily, placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. How was he to prove her not guilty when all the evidence was against her? How was he to triumph where in his father had failed? His ice blue eyes traveled up to Pan, who lay either asleep or unconscious on the bed. The doctors had cleaned her and bandaged her up, as she was looking better already. He sighed, then looked back down to the tiled floor, thinking that this was somehow his fault.

            _How do I prove her innocent? How, how, how,_ how?! _The real assassin is out here while she is held under custody…_ Trunks suddenly snapped his head up. _Of course! That's it!_ He thought. _If the real assassin is still out there, then he's guaranteed to attack again… and if Pan's here then it_ has _to be clear that she's innocent!_ Trunks stood up swiftly, but heavily fell back down in his seat. Apparently, he was still exhausted from the activity today. It looked as though he wouldn't be going anywhere until he rested up.

*******

            Gohan was confused. It had been over a week and the King still hadn't announced that Pan was innocent. What was he waiting for? What? He was beginning to get angry. If the King didn't announce that Pan wasn't guiltily soon, he was going to march over there and tell him to.

            Well, maybe that was a little extreme, but he'd do _something_.

            What, he wasn't sure of yet.

            But what continued to confuse him more were the rumors he had been hearing lately-mainly, the rumor that Prince Trunks had given his blood to keep Pan alive.

            …

            Just _what_ was going on?

*******

            Trunks was finally able to stand and walk about again, and was instantly off to talk to his father. 

            However, unknown to Trunks, a pair of eyes tracked him as he made his way through the halls. Maybe his plan would be carried out sooner then he thought.

**Author's Note**: Once again, sorry about the lack of updates-There will be one every week now.

**Next chapter**:  Lights Out

            **Date**: Tuesday, October 15, 2002

            Hope you enjoyed the chappie! Like the new pen-name? *laughs*

And, as always, THANK YOU!!

(Or 'Grazie,' I believe, in Italian ^.^))

_"Slump, and the world slumps with you. Push, and you push alone."_

_~Laurence J. Peter_


	28. Lights Out

**Author's Note: **Well here it is, like I promised. Enjoy!!

Chapter 28

Lights Out

            Niomi sat, listening to the guards talking amongst each other. From what they were saying, Pan had been released from her torture and had been taken to the hospital wing, where Trunks-_Prince_ Trunks-had given her his own blood! Could it be true? Could the prince of all saiyans give a mere female commoner _his_ blood? The guards she was eavesdropping on seemed pretty sure about it. _That would mean that Prince Trunks knows that she's innocent! He would have to!_ She thought to herself. _And if Prince Trunks knows, then nothing is stopping Pan from getting out of here!_ Niomi grinned. _Way to go, Pan. I don't know how you got the Prince on your side, but you did it. Congrats._

******

             Vegeta sat at his desk, thinking about the meeting he had had no less then a week ago with his council. Take Frieza down? It seemed impossible. Other races had tried, and failed miserably. He knew that his people had a better chance, but… it just seemed like there was no way in hell that he would be able to take down the strongest being in the universe.

            He knew his people would fight. Not just because he told them to, but they would fight because they _wanted_ to. Frieza had been taking saiyans for his armies for as long as Vegeta could remember, and he knew his people were tired of being used as pawns. Frieza insulted the saiyan race whenever he felt the need to, and Vegeta knew his people would fight him with everything they had-as he would.

            But could it possibly be enough?

            Enough to beat the strongest being in the universe? Enough to take down armies of colossal sizes?

            He wasn't sure.

*******

            _This is perfect,_ he thought, watching the lavender-haired saiyan walk down the halls to the King's room. _Two of them at once? It's better then I could have wished for._ He continued following, being patient-why hurry when he knew he would have them both in a mere matter of moments?

*******

            Trunks walked into his father's room, getting right to the point. "Father, I know how to prove her innocent."

            "What-oh, Son Pan?" Vegeta asked. His son nodded, taking a seat in front of his father. 

            "It's simple, really. But it'll take time. We just have to wait until the assassin attacks again."

            Vegeta thought for a moment, his fierce gaze never leaving Trunks's face. He too had thought of this possibility, but he thought it might take too much time, and might not even work if the assassin didn't attack again. But it might be the only way to prove Son Pan innocent. "It'll have to do," he muttered, looking back down to his paper work.

            All of a sudden, the little 'father-son' chat was interrupted when all of the lights went out, leaving the room virtually pitch black. Vegeta looked around, trying to see. "What the-?!"

            Trunks stood, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, the fur on his tail standing on end. "It's probably just a power outage," he said, trying to convince himself more then his father.

            "Probably."

            Trunks was still trying to see something through the darkness, but it was just too dark. He closed his eyes and relied on his other senses. His acute sense of hearing could hear his father standing from his chair… and something else moving in the back of the room. "Father, can you hear that?" he whispered.

            Vegeta was doing the same thing Trunks was-relying on his other senses. "Yes," was his gruff reply.

            "Father, who-" Trunks was suddenly stopped his question short with a grunt as he felt the white-hot pain of a knife slicing through his back.

            A voice was transmitted to their minds. _We meet again, Prince, King._

            Trunks gasped in both shock and pain as panic raced through his mind.

            "Trunks?!" Vegeta was worried-yes, _worried_-about his son. He was angry, too. He didn't like being helpless.

            Trunks wasn't going to let this happen again-he couldn't-for his sake, or his peoples' sake. He powered up, his ki blasting out in the dark room, lighting it up for just a second with blue light. He stepped forward, out of the path of the knife's path and whirled to face his attacker-the assassin.

            Vegeta saw them when the room lit up-and he caught a glimpse of the assassin. _Could it be-? No…_ _It's not possible…_ He stepped forward to the fighting, wanting to help in any way he could.

*******

            He grinned slightly as his own powered raised. _So the little prince wants to fight back this time, does he?_ He thought as his grin changed to a smirk. _No worries. He'll die just the same._

*******

            Trunks heard the assassin's quick, rapid breath and leaped forward, tackling him to the floor. His hands went for the assassin's throat, trying to hold him still long enough for the lights to come back on so that he could see whom this assassin was. As soon as he knew who it was, he would make sure he died a slow, painful death for framing-whoa, wait a minute. Was he starting to care for that female commoner? _Impossible,_ his mind spat. But another, quieter, part of his mind argued, _but nothing's impossible…_

            Trunks's mind slipped on the battle on hand and the assassin saw this and made his escape, shoving Trunks off of him roughly and jumping on him.

            Vegeta could hear the fight he could not see, and angrily he powered up, his ki flaring out around him. He caught a glimpse of his son struggling with the assassin, and he lunged forward, his fist connecting with the assassin's face, sending him flying into the wall. "Trunks!" he called, "Try to contact the others and get the lights on-I'll take care of the assassin."

            "But-"

            "Don't argue, just do it!"

            Trunks glanced at his father one last time, then found his way to the door and left. 

*******

            Out in the hallways Trunks found that it was just as dark as his father's office, except in the hallways had windows. He found no one in the hallways except for injured servants-obviously injured by the assassin- his worry growing. Where was everyone?

            He headed towards the royal quarters, and was relieved to find his mother there. "Mother!" he called to her, bursting in the door. "Mom!"

            She stood, walking up to him. "Trunks, what's going on? Why did the lights go out?"

            "The assassin!" Trunks gasped, his muscles aching and his still-healing scars burning. "He turned them off-Father's holding him off."

            "What?! Is he ok? Are _you_ ok?! Wait a minute-_he?!_ You mean it's _not_ Son Pan?"

            "No-it never was," he said, ignoring the cut in his lower left back. "Get someone-anyone-and get the lights back on." With that, he turned and left, leaving his mother to watch him shocked and perplexed.

*******

            Trunks tried to run all the way back to his father's office, but his body just would not do it. Cursing, he took a seat on the floor. As soon as he was able to get up, he was off and running again.

            Running down the halls, he noticed some of the lights popping back on-he could only pray that his father's office wouldn't be the last to light up.

            Slamming open the door, he looked around in the still dark room. "Father? Father! Are you all right?"

            "Of course I am, boy," came Vegeta's gruff voice.

            Trunks listened for a moment, sounds coming to his sensitive ears. He could hear his father's panting breath-he was injured-and he could hear the assassin stumble on something he couldn't see.

            Guessing where the assassin was with incredible accuracy, he leaped forward, slamming the figure up against the wall, slamming his knee into his gut. 

            Now knowing that he wasn't going to win, the assassin struggled wildly, trying to break free but could not.

            Suddenly the lights flickered on, and furious ice blue ices stared into terrified raven ones.

            "Doshen?"

**Author's Note:** HA!! Anyone out there know who it was before hand? Anyone guess? I was going to make it Zarbon… but I didn't, for reasons of my own. Sorry this came a little late in the day-went dress shopping for the homecoming *friends faint* Gee, I don't say that often, do I? *laughs* Well, ta-ta for now!!

_"The dream is real, my friends. The failure to realize it is the only unreality."_

_~Toni Cade Bambera___


	29. Right Places at the Right Times

**Author's Note: **Gah! Sorry. My laptop had some kind of weird virus where when I turned it on, I couldn't open anything!! Sorry About that, but I fixed it ^.^ (Yay!)  So, here's the chapter!

Chapter 29

Right Places at the Right Times

            He couldn't believe it. He didn't _want_ to believe it. How could it be possible?

            "T-this isn't what it looks like…" Doshen stuttered, his eyes darting from Trunks to Vegeta.

            "Oh? Well then what is it?" Trunks growled. Doshen didn't answer.

            Vegeta came up behind his son, holding his side where a medium-sized cut was. "What's the meaning of this, Doshen," he asked coldly.

            "It's not natural, 'Vegeta," Doshen said, purposely leaving off his title.

            "What's not natural?" Trunks asked, his tail swishing warily.

            "You," he said, looking to Trunks, "him," he said, looking to Vegeta, "His mate…"

            With a growl Vegeta slammed his fist into Doshen's jaw, anger glinting in his eyes. "That'll be enough from you," he snarled. He grabbed Doshen, and despite his injury he shoved him into a chair.  "We'll find out what we need to know when we torture you."

            "T-Torture?" Doshen stammered, clearly not liking the idea.

            Vegeta and his son wore twin smirks. "Just like Son Pan, Doshen," was Trunks's reply.

            Vegeta was about to ask him another question but was interrupted by someone banging on the door. "King Vegeta! Prince Trunks!"

            "Come in," Trunks said to the people at the door. Several guards walked in, creating a loose circle around himself and his father.

            Vegeta looked to the commander. "Take him to the dungeons_._ I'll come by to ask him questions later."

            "What is the charge, sir, on Master Doshen, if I may ask?"

            "Attempted assassination on my son and I," Vegeta said, tossing the knife to the Commander, who caught it-luckily-by the handle. Vegeta pushed past the guards, walking out of the room.

            "S-sir?" The guard asked, confused, then looked to Trunks for an answer.

            "Drop the charges on Son Pan. She's innocent," Trunks said briskly. 

"She was framed-she didn't try to kill me, she saved my life." He followed his father out of the room, not wanting to answer any more questions. Absently he wondered how fast it would take this news to get around.

*******

            Trunks followed his father to the royal quarters, knowing they had a lot to talk about. What were they going to do now? If there were others involved, then this whole crisis had just begun. They needed to find the traitors and separate them from the innocent-and fast, before anything else happened.

            Trunks walked into the room behind his father and sat down on a couch, his head drooped. His father looked around for his mate before sitting, and when he didn't find her his tail flickered once in worry.

            Bulma walked in the doors behind them, relieved to see the two of them all right. "Woman, where were you."

            "Turning the lights on for you-don't get snappy with me."

            Vegeta sighed and sat, as Bulma looked to the two of them, hands on her hips. "What's going on here? Is someone going to explain?" she asked crossly. She looked to Vegeta who was holding his side, and ran over to him. "Are you all right? _What_ happened?" She got a first aid kit and Vegeta wordlessly took of his shirt, and she was immediately at work at cleaning his wound.

            Trunks spoke up first. "The assassin _never_ was Pa-Son Pan. She… she saved my life…"

            "Twice," Vegeta reminded him in the gruff tone of his. Something abruptly clicked in Vegeta's mind, his eyes a little wider then usual. "…Mine too…" He remembered why Son Pan's power seemed familiar to him when she saved Trunks the second time-because she had done the same thing to him when he had been near death.

            "…What?" Trunks asked.

            Bulma had caught on to what Vegeta had figured out. "When Vegeta's heart had been stopped by the assassin… Pan gave his heart a shock with her ki…" she said, both surprised and ashamed of herself. "The whole time I was mad at her, she was innocent… I wanted to kill her-"

            Vegeta cut her off to stop her brooding. "The real problem is the assassin, now."

            "What? Why? You caught him, right?" Bulma asked, pressing a little harder on his wound then she had intended.

            "Yes," Vegeta assured her, wincing slightly. "But he could be working with others, which I suspect."

            "And why do you suspect that?" Bulma pressed.

            "Because Doshen's smart."

            "_What?!_ The assassin is _Doshen_?!" Bulma exclaimed, eyes wide.

            "Certainly is," Trunks answered his mother. "When Pan was ordered to work in the palace, he figured that she would be the perfect person to blame, since most saiyans would naturally blame her for the fact that she is a female fighter. And she just happened to be in the right places at the right times-or the wrong places at the wrong times-it depends on how you look at it."

            "Right places at the right times," Bulma muttered.

            "Huh?"

            "Had she not have been there twice for you and once for Vegeta, then the two of you would have been dead," Bulma said in a quiet tone.

            Vegeta knew this to be true-perhaps he would still be alive by Bulma's instinct and not the girl's, but Bulma had not been there those nights, night-away on royal business. He said nothing, however.

            Trunks nodded solemnly, his eyes trained to the floor in an unfocused manner as he thought.

**Author's Note: **Once again, sorry! ^^; Anyway, as usual,

THANK YOU EVERYONE!!!

I cherish the reviews *huggles reviews* 

_"Passionate hatred can give meaning and purpose to an empty life."_

_~Eric Hoffer****_


	30. Unnatural

**Author's Note:** I know, I know. I'm **_LATE!_** So sorry. I've been busy and such, but other then that, I really have no excuse. *hits self over the head* Send in the flames! ^^

Chapter 30

Unnatural

            Bulma finished wrapping up Vegeta's room, and began fretting once more when she saw Trunks'. "Kami forbid you told me you were hurt," she grumbled as she began cleaning Trunks' wound after the removal of his shirt. "It's not like you have the blood to spare…"

            Trunks was silent, letting his mother clean his wounds without complaint.

            His mother voiced his thoughts. "What do we do now?"

            That was a question none of them could answer.         

            It wasn't much later when Trunks and Vegeta decided that they would go down to the dungeons and give Doshen a visit. Trunks smirked savagely at the news-Kami help him; he was looking forward to this.

            Father and son were side by side as they walked down the halls to the dungeons, both silent. Both had different things on their minds, and both had their own ideas of revenge, both for different reasons. Their thoughts were interrupted with a sudden roar of a voice.

            "What is the meaning of this?!"

            Vegeta turned, hearing his father's voice. "What do you mean?" His voice was unnervingly calm-he knew _exactly_ what his father meant.

            "Doshen! He's done nothing wrong-you must have been mistaken," his father growled. With a swirl of his cape he strode down the hallway, in front of Vegeta and Trunks, not waiting for answers.

            "And I'm guessing Doshen was mistaken when he drew the knife down my back," Trunks growled to him self in a dry humor. The two continued on, following the eldest Vegeta.

            "Doshen!"

            The pale prisoner looked up, having already been beaten for his crimes. "Vegeta."

            Vegeta and Trunks were suddenly standing behind the tallest, the two glowering at Doshen with matching glares. If looks could kill… let's just say it was lucky for Doshen that they couldn't. "Why did you do it?" Vegeta growled.

            Doshen sent his own glare-a look that could not compare to Vegeta's and his son's, but a glare all the same-and snarled in reply. "I told you before-it's not natural." For some reason, the man seemed more confident now.

            "What's not natural?" Trunks asked, stepping past his Grandfather, who was only blinking, unbelieving, at Doshen.

            "You're no saiyan!" He cried, pointing an accusing finger at Trunks. "You're hair, you're eyes-You're _wrong_!"

            Trunks snarled, tail lashing. "Why you-"

            But the saiyan standing on the ground before him cut him off. "And you're mother-she's just as wrong as you! Saiyans have black hair and black eyes-not… not whatever _you_ have," he spat.

            Trunks didn't know _what_ to do. Stunned, he stood there, without anything to say to Doshen. _Is… Is he right?_

            Doshen continued-not one of the three royal saiyans had the mind to stop him. "You're a mutt-Planet Vegeta should be ruled with pure blood, not by a mongrel!"

            Vegeta decided to put a stop to this ranting lunitic. "That is _enough!_" he snarled, backhanding the man across the face. Doshen fell to the ground and laid still for a moment, then struggled back to his feet. "You will not insult the Queen of Vegeta that way, nor my son. How dare you suggest that their blood is not pure?" Vegeta's tail was lashing about angrily as he waited for this joke-of-a-saiyan to say something. Anything.

            "Your rule was proved more tainted when that… 'female' came. She was just as wrong. Just as unnatural," Doshen said slowly, ire in his own voice.

            Trunks snapped out of his thoughts and stepped up beside his father, tail now whipping through the air. "Leave her out of this," he hissed.

            "What? Why?" he retorted. "You like her or something?"

            Trunks slammed his fist into Doshen's stomach, making him double over in pain. "She went through hell because of _you_!"

            Doshen gasped, regaining his breath. "Because you weren't saiyan enough to wake up."

            It was as if someone had opened a door to Trunks' anger as he beat the former Headmaster into oblivion. Vegeta watched calmly, making no move to stop his son-there was a small smirk of satisfaction written on his face. Vegeta's father, how ever looked… remorseful.

            When Trunks stopped, he stood still, chest heaving for air as he looked at Doshen's form on the ground. "That was for Pan," the saiyan whispered, in a voice that neither his father nor his grandfather could hear.

            The lavender-haired saiyan then turned and walked out, not taking a look back. Vegeta glanced at Doshen, taking in the sight of him, then turned, following his son. The eldest Vegeta was last to leave, who with a word of goodbye left his once-time friend lying in a crumpled heap on the floor of a dungeon.

            Trunks walked towards his room, his weary body threatening to give out, but he forced himself on. _I swear, Doshen, I will make every day you stay alive a living hell,_ he thought lividly. _I swear it._

Author's Note: I dedicate this chapter to Ayla, my bestest friend ^.^ *waves to A-chan* *receives glare from A-chan* Hee-hee. Anywho, A-chan read what I had of 'Rebel' before I put it up on fanfiction, and she was the one who always demanded that I make new chapters and such, 'cuz it was such a good story. A-chan inspired me to keep on writing this fic, bless her! *huggles A-chan* *get's one of those 'It's Ayla-SAMA!' type of things back* lol Inside joke ^^ Luv ya, A-chan!!!!

Did you think I'd forget you, reviewers?

Thanks for staying with this story through all of the laziness (that's me ^^) and sometimes, lack of updates. THANK YOU!!!

_"True friends stab you in the front."_

_~Oscar Wilde_


	31. Corruption

**Author's Note:** Guess who's late? ME! Sorry about being soooo late. How long has it been? Three _weeks_? Sorry. Indoor track started up, and after practice I come home and just fall asleep. I think I've finally gotten into the swing of things, though. Good news for you guys ^.^ 

                        **Next update**: I have a track meet on Saturday in New York (I live in New Jersey) So the next update will be on Sunday, December 22nd. 

            Oh-and if you want to be on my e-mailing list for the updates, just leave your e-mail address! If you don't want to leave it in a review, you can e-mail me too.

Anyways, On with the fic!

Chapter 31

Corruption

            When Trunks awoke the next morning, his muscles were aching, and his injuries were throbbing like all hell. He moaned as he turned over on his bed, not wanting to get up this morning. _Life's a bitch,_ he thought to himself.

            "Prince Trunks?"

            Trunks groaned as he sat up. _Looks like I'm going to_ have _to get up,_ he thought to himself. He looked in the direction of the voice. "Yes, who is it?"

            "Dr. Koki, sir," came the answer from behind the door.

            "Come in."

            The door opened, revealing a small doctor carrying a small bad of wraps and poultices and such, his tail curling about nervously. "I've been sent to change your bandages, my prince."

            Trunks waved him closer. "What would you like me to do?"  
            "Just sit on the edge of the bed, my prince, would be fine. If it pleases you," he added hastily.

            Trunks nodded and did what was asked of him (for once), sitting on the edge of the bed calmly. He watched the doctor begin to unwrap his bandages for a while, then drifted off into thought.

            _Am I really a saiyan? Or am I some mutation of saiyan genes? How can_ I _lead the planet if my people have no care for a purple-haired freak of nature? Is_ this _what they have thought of me?_

            _Is Doshen right?_ Am _I unnatural?_

*******

            Vegeta sat at his desk, drumming his fingers idly. Everything just seemed-over, now. But he knew that if he began to think like that, then who _knew_ what would happen to him-look what happened before-he almost died. The drumming of his fingers paused for a moment, then resumed. _Doshen… what am I going to do with him?_ He thought. _He's pressing button's I don't want pressed…_ When Vegeta had taken Bulma as his mate, her azure hair was something he respected, something that fascinated him. It was never something he shunned-he never shunned her for her difference. But the people… did they see it the way he had? Or no? And his son… 

            His son was a whole different story. He remembered when he was born, and when they realized that his hair was unnatural-just like his mother's. It had taken sometime for Vegeta to tolerate it, and even longer for him to accept it. A son? With purple hair?

            Who was also the Prince of Vegeta?

            That was always a thought that never truly settled in him. It was just beginning too, but Doshen ripped open and old, battered wound.

            And he would defiantly pay for that.

*******

            Trunks was in his room, alone now-the bandages had been changed. Yawning, he settled back onto the bed-tired and sore. He drifted in and out of sleep, his thoughts troubled and his dreams confused. When he finally found himself totally awake, it was early morning of the next day. Still confused, still troubled, and still sore he stood, hungry.

            He went down to the kitchens and found something to eat, and while he did so his thoughts became more troubled and less confused. Just what kind of saiyan _was_ he? Not really knowing and not really caring, he wandered out to the royal gardens. He found a small cement bench and took a seat, his mind gradually starting to slow its thought process.

            He watched the sun rise, narrowing his eyes at it. _So simple. So.._ normal. He stood up once more and strode back to the palace, his thoughts a dark swirl compared to the glow of the sun.

*******

            Trunks was greeted by his mother as she walked by, and upon seeing him she altered her course to match his to see how he was. Just catching a glimpse on his face told her enough. His eyes were narrowed and had a furious tone to him, and his tail was jerking about wildly-all signs that said 'stay the hell away from me.'

            Trunks looked to her, and his glare immediately deepened. It was all _her_ fault he was like this, or that's how his mind set was when he saw her. "Get away from me."

            "Trunks, what's wrong? I-"

            He cut her off rudely. "Shut the hell up." When she looked genuinely shocked, he continued. "Look at me! I'm a freak all because of _you._ Get _away_ from me!" His snarl hissed though his teeth, void of compassion or caring.

            Bulma's eyes became misty and she quickly scurried off, Trunks smirking smugly-but the smirk was emotionless too.

            What did it matter now? He was hated by his people, anyway-all because of _her_

**Author's Note**: And, as always, thanks for being patient with me! And if you're not, that's just my fault ^.^ heh-heh. ^^;; Oh, and most of the quotes that I have something to do with the chapter. Sometimes, they'll be easier to figure out, other times, they won't ^.^

THANK YOU!

_"Knowledge speaks, but wisdom listens."_

~Jimi Hendrix


	32. No Less Fixed!

Thanks to Jami-chan for bringing this to my attention!! For some reason, the chapter didn't load. *tries again* *tries AGAIN because first time didn't work*****

** **

** **

**Author's Note:** Yeah, I know. Really, really, REALLY goddamn late.

Hey. It's here.

I made this chapter longer, and already wrote the next chapter, so next Wednesday, it _will_ be here. I know I've said that before, but hey.

Here it is. Enjoy.

Chapter 32

No Less

Vegeta scribbled something down on a piece of paper, looked it over, then deemed it satisfactory and placed it in a pile. Sighing, he continued his work. So boring.

A figure slammed open his door and his head snapped up, eyes angry at such an intrusion. His eyes immediately then softened, seeing the azure hair of his mate. His head then tilted to the side very slightly as he peered at her, tail curling with inquisitiveness. "What's wrong?" His mate's face was red and blotchy, as if she had been crying, and her eyes were watery. When was the last time he had seen _her_ cry?

"Vegeta…" was the only mournful sound she could make. He hesitantly stood, taking a step forward.

"What is it, woman? Out with it now."

Bulma flung herself to him, sobbing. "Vegeta… oh.. Vegeta," she sniffled through tears.

Vegeta, shocked, looked at her, blinking. What had happened? Whatever it was, he knew that it had hurt her in a way he had never _ever_ seen before. He put a hand around her and pulled her closer, letting her cry upon his shoulder without complaint.

Whoever did this to her…

"Vegeta, what's wrong with him?" Bulma asked after she had calmed her tears, though continued to stay close to him. She needed his comfort right now, even if he didn't want to give it.

"Him? Who?" Vegeta's voice rumbled through his chest, almost like a purr, calming his mate, her shuddering body stilling. 

'Trunks. He-… I-…"

"What did the boy do now?" Vegeta growled, though continued to keep his voice low-and surprising continuing to keep his arm around his mate, almost protectively.

"He hates me, Vegeta… he hates me!" she buried her face into his shoulder, muffling her sobs.

Vegeta was about to ask why, but his own thoughts answered his question. Of course the boy would blame his mother for the way he looked. Vegeta, however, wasn't going to let him. "No, he doesn't," Vegeta soothed. "He's just hurting."

"But the doctors said-"

"Not there, Bulma. Here." Vegeta tapped his chest, dark eyes clouded in thought. He lightly pulled Bulma away from him and pushed her into a seat with a gentle touch and left her in his office, striding down the hallways.

Where was that boy of his?

*******

Trunks sat on this throne, a cruel smirk tossed across his face. His fingers drummed on the armrest idly, waiting for something-anything-to happen.

'S-sir?" a voice questioned tentatively.

"What?" Trunks looked down, his ice eyes meeting the ebony gaze of a soldier.

"There's a crowd forming outside, my prince," he answered, tail quivering slightly.

Trunks's fingers stopped their fidgeting. "…Why?"

"They want to see Son Pan, Prince."

"Son Pan?" he repeated. He knew word got around fast, but this was absurd.

"…Yes sir."

Trunks stood, cap wavering out behind him. "Thank you. That willbe all." The soldier bowed and scurried off, Trunks's eyes watching him before striding to the double doors.

Walking through the halls, he kept his mind blank-which wasn't too hard. Coming up on the doors, he stared at them for a moment. He realized that he hadn't actually been out of the palace much of his life. He hadn't been places, seen things; the only things he could strongly remember were marble pillars and artificial lighting. Blinking, somewhat surprised, he pushed open the door.

Trunks was stunned to see the amount of people there. _Cheering_ the one they had hated no more then-what was it-two days ago? He blinked, then shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Trunks crossed his hands in front of his chest, demanding silence with the steel of his gaze. The crowd instantly fell silent. "Return to your homes." The saiyans instantly protested. "Go. Now. Son Pan has not yet awakened." Trunks did not notice that guards had moved into a protective line behind him.

One of the saiyans grew bolder. "Because of _your_ torture!" The others agreed with a roar.

Trunks's eyes turned into frosted ice as he sent a deadly, malice filled glare at them. He was in no mood to be kind-or lenient. That look stopped the saiyans in their tracks, their hearts having skipped a beat. Or two. "Just a day or two ago, it was _you_ who wanted her blood to be split.

"I never did.

"Take a second to think about who you accuse-it very well could be yourself." Trunks, with icy, angered eyes, turned and strode away, tail jerking wildly in wrath. Gee, the gods must _love_ him today. Gritting his teeth angrily, he made his way towards the training center. He couldn't take this frustration anymore-it was building up inside him and had nowhere to go.

*******

Vegeta went to the only place he knew where to go-the training room. That's where _he_ went when he was in a bad mood, and from what Bulma had described, Trunks was _certainly_ in a pissed mood. The automatic doors opened for him, giving him entrance to the plane, barren room. He walked across the crimson floors, stopping and turning at the wall farthest from the doors. The saiyans, seeing their king, immediately exited, not wanting to get in his way. Vegeta didn't seem to take notice as he leaned against the wall, muscular forearms crossed in front of his chest, waiting. Trunks would come.

If he was his son, he would come.

*******

Trunks walked into the room, not reacting when he saw his father watching him with raven orbs. "Father." He walked to a bench, shedding his cape and white armor, leaving him in navy blue.

Vegeta watched his son's movements, watching his tail jerk about rapidly. Yep. Defiantly pissed. Trunks slid into a fighting stance smoothly-his own, Vegeta was proud to note-and swiftly began his training, celerity astounding. Vegeta blinked, his way of being shocked. He had never seen that boy of his so… fierce when he trained. "Explain, boy."

"There's nothing to explain."

"Vegeta snorted. "And I'm a blind man."

'Guess so."

Vegeta's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Tell me, boy."

"It's none of your concern."

"When you send my mate crying home to me, it _becomes_ my concern," Vegeta hissed.

Vegeta was appalled at the smirk that spread across the boy's face, and was tempted to punch it off. There was very little that restrained him from doing so.

"Shame."

Vegeta strode forward with an angry snarl. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're letting what Doshen said get to you, aren't you," he accused.

Trunks's lie was horrible. "No."

Vegeta snorted. "You're pathetic."

Trunks faltered in his training, and with a trying last punch, he gave it up. He straightened, glancing down to the floor to avoid his father's gaze, his cruel resolve crumbled.

"Look at me." Trunks did so reluctantly. "Are you my son?"

Trunks blinked at the question, but knew better not to question. "Yes…"

"Is your mother saiyan?"

"Her eyes and–"

"Is-she-saiyan?"

Trunks took a moment before answering. "Yes."

"Are _you_ saiyan?"

"…Yes, but–"

"No buts. We are who we are. We can be no more–" upon hearing this, Trunks's eyes darkened, "–but no less." Vegeta turned and walked off, leaving his son there to think.

**Author's Note:** Sorry. I know it's late, but the only thing I can say is I've been busy. Lame excuse? Maybe. But I've been working my ass off at indoor track, and it's not for nothing. I'm one of the few freshmen going to the State Relays. ^^ State Relays are this weekend, then Championships, and then one more meet then I'm done indoor. Besides, I've taken up to writing my chapters in class. Teachers are sometimes so stupid. I only had one teacher who knew I wasn't paying attention when I was writing something. Hmph. Idiots.

Well, until next Wednesday!

~Ravi-chan

**Oh-and some few things that need to be taken care of:**

**'Aja'**: Thank you for the wonderful review!! Just thought I might say something. Thanks!

**'eleuthera'**: Hey, want in on a little secret? I'm a victim of Toonami too! Heh. ^^ And if you'd like to proof read my stuff, I'd appreciate it! ^__^

**'t/ptears**: Thanks for being lenient with me! Heh… heh… *scratches back of head*

**Ssjtomara**: Yes, there _will _be a super saiyan! You just dun know who yet… *sly grin*

Oh, I hope I got everyone who wanted to be e-mailed when I updated!

And to everyone else who reviewed:

**THANK YOU _SO_ MUCH!!**

_"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken."_

_~Unknown_


	33. Normal?

**Author's Note:** Yeah, yeah, late. Well, I put two up at one time for the lateness… ^^' Anyways, I'm going on vacation for a week, and I'm bringing my laptop. I'll type some things up… I just don't know when _you'll _get them. Heh

Well, anyway-enjoy!

Chapter 33

…Normal?

After Vegeta left, Trunks didn't know _what_ to do. It didn't make sense… and yet it did.

            He wandered out of he training room in a daze, brow furrowed in thought. When he finally looked up to see where he was, he found that he was outside in the gardens. He didn't even remember going out the doors. Oh well.

            Sighing, he looked up at the night sky-night already? Guess he didn't notice. His eyes studied the stars, looking for constellations he knew. After finding The Lady, The Rouge, and Bardock*, god of spirit and will, he sighed and flopped down on the ground, hands behind his head as he laid on his back. It wasn't _his_ fault that Pan had been tortured, was it? He had tried to wake as soon as he possibly could, and when he did, he had found a way to prove her innocent to the People. But then why did he feel guilty about it? Why?

            Was it because of what that one saiyan had said? Maybe. But why did he, the Prince of Planet Vegeta, care about some commoner off the streets? That, he couldn't quite comprehend. All he _did_ understand was that he cared.

            His mind drifted off the thought, and then landed on a very sore one. Himself. He thought back to what his father had said, the words being repeated over and over in his head. '_We are who we are. We can be no more, but no less.'_ Trunks shut his blue eyes briefly. What did his father mean by that? That he wasn't good enough, but couldn't change it? Or that he _was_ good enough and shouldn't worry…? Hmph. Why couldn't his father just say what the hell he meant? His eyes reopened. Or why couldn't he just figure him out?

            After finishing some work of his own, Vegeta headed for his office; he had some explaining to do to his mate, and he guessed that she most likely didn't leave his office. Besides, he didn't think the boy would apologize any time soon. Vegeta opened the door quietly, seeing his mate facing the window, her back towards him. A slight smile curled the corners of his lips as he saw her, unable to hide that emotion at the moment. He walked up behind her silently, slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him protectively. "…You all right?" he asked in his usual gruff tone. He didn't like to see her like this.

            Bulma didn't want him to think her so weak. "…I'm fine."

            Vegeta knew it was a lie. With a small sigh, he laid his head on her shoulder, mouth close to her ear. "When we went down to see Doshen, he suggested that you and the boy were … unnatural," he explained, watching the sky outside the window.

            Bulma blinked. "Is that why he…?"

            Vegeta nodded faintly. "He blamed you."

            There was a long silence between them as the two thought, neither moving. Bulma, touched by Vegeta's show of affection, didn't want to break the moment by speaking.

            Finally, though, she did. "Vegeta," she asked, voice soft, trembling slightly. "_Am_ … I unnatural?"

            Vegeta turned her towards him, eyes fierce.  His raven eyes met azure pools, searching, as he shook her by the shoulders slightly. "Don't let a fool like Doshen get to you. Ever. Your just as natural as anyone," he whispered in a rough voice. Vegeta kissed her lightly, then whispered into her ear. "Gotta' go." With a smirk the devil would be proud of, he slipped out of her arms, striding away.

            "Tease!"

            Vegeta chuckled, then was gone.

            Trunks pushed himself off the ground, wincing when a sore injury was stretched. Walking back inside, his eyes were blank, lost. Everything he had been confident about had crumbled down around him. _Doshen might not have killed me, but he's doing a good job of shattering my resolve,_ Trunks thought ruefully. _Figures._ He walked to his room, distraught. When he hit the bed, he was out before he could take off his shoes.

            The next few days             were like a blur to him; nothing was clear, nothing was straight. He doctors continued to comment him on his progress, but her didn't seem to care. Pain was the one emotion he could feel, it was the only thing that keep him awake and walking.

            He steered clear of his mother and father; staying away from places he knew they'd be and heading to the places he knew they wouldn't. He knew they could sense his ki, but they figured that he wanted to stay alone. Thankfully, they complied with his wishes. He didn't know what to think anymore, and that was exactly what they'd ask.

            Trunks, having grown up in the sheltered atmosphere of the palace, never once questioned his normalcy. No one had ever made a comment about it either; he was the prince, had they done so, they would have soon found that their head no longer connected with their body. They had learned to stay quiet, and in doing so, had learned to accept. They grew accustomed to what others would have considered unnatural, and never once thought twice about it. It was as if reality had just slammed into him; he had just begun to realize that the world did not end at the palace doors.

            Reality was so cruel sometimes.

            It was a shock to figure out what the rest of the planet thought of him; a shock to figure out that the feelings towards him were not all good. They may have feared him, but some, however, were disgusted with his looks…

            Why did he figure this out –now-?

            Why now? Who _knew_ how many more assassins there were, if any, and Pan… Thinking about her, his thoughts faltered.

            What did _she_ think about him?

            He blinked as he absent-mindedly headed toward the infirmary wing. He'd figure out, sooner or later.

            Walking into the room, he glanced to her sleeping-or unconscious- form, thinking. Color had begun to return to her features, cuts had begun to heal, bruises were beginning to fade. He would openly admit that she looked much better then before, when she had first been brought here. Ebony locks fell past her shoulders, creating a striking contrast between her hair and the hospital sheets. Her eyes were shut lightly-at least she wasn't in any pain. He looked about, and spotting a chair he sat in it, watching her with ice eyes.

            Why was he here again?

            He soon forgot his question as he drifted off to sleep-healing saiyans need much of it.

**Author's Note:** I got to make up a bit of saiyan history ^^ Cool, ne? Well, here's my bit:

The god Bardock (Who is the god of spirit and will, along with determination) is a god that many saiyans named their children after, hence the Bardock we  all know and love today. ^^

Oh- and:

**Bebop05**-Yes, of course you can! I'm deeply honored! *flushes*

To everyone else who reviewed… You know the deal! 

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!!

^^'

"When I hear somebody sigh, 'Life is hard,' I am always tempted to ask, 'Compared to what?'"

_~Sydney Harris_


	34. Speeches

**Author's Note:** Yep, second chapter! Read and enjoy! (My goal ^^')

Here's the chapter you've been waiting for!!!

Chapter 34

Speeches

            Raven eyes opened slowly, blinking in confusion. "…Huh?" Eyes that were not yet accustomed to the light continued to blink. "Wha…?" the voice was hoarse from the lack of use. Orbs drifted around the room, landing on a sleeping form sprawled out on a chair next to her. The form, who had tried to get comfortable in a chair, had unmistakable lavender hair. "T-Trunks?"

            The figure's eyes fluttered open, landing on the once sleeping figure. _She's awake…?_ He thought. _Impossible!_ "…Pan?!" His eyes widened in disbelief.

            "W-where am I? What happened?"

            "Pan.. You're awake…"

            "T-Trunks? I don't get it what-"

            Trunks stood but did not rush by her side; he only stood at the foot of the bed. "I can't believe it Pan…"

            "Believe _what?_"

            Trunks chuckled slightly. She was awake no more then a minute and already making demands. How typical. "Don't you remember anything?"

            Pan's eyes traveled from Trunks' ice blue orbs to his arms; there were long, not-healed-quite-yet gashes running down them. She tried to sit up, to demand what had happened and gasped in pain when she tried, falling back to the bed.

            Oh, she remembered now.

            Water started to form at the corners of her eyes. "T-Trunks," she stuttered. "What's going to happen to me? You know it wasn't me, right?"

            Trunks offered a small grin and walked to the edge of her bed, sitting down by her feet. "We-"

            A solider walked into the room, interrupting Trunks. "My Prince? Oh, Son-sama, you're awake!" The soldier grinned and bowed slightly-for himself or for Pan, Trunks wasn't sure-then continued. "There's a crowd outside wanting to see Son-sama, and it's getting rather large…"

            "They're not rioting, I hope."

            " 'Nay, sir, they're not. You yourself might want to go out and tell 'em to scat."

            "Whoa-wait a minute," Pan said, looking from Trunks to the solider. "You mean, they know I'm innocent?"

            Trunks grinned, and nodded. "Yeah."

            "And… they want to see _me_?" she asked.

            "Yes…" Trunks wondered briefly where she was going with this.

            "Well then I'm going."

            "What? Going where?" Trunks asked, his hands crossed in front of his chest loosely.

            "Going to see them. They want to see me… right?"

            Trunks was too shocked to speak, so the soldier spoke up, grinning. " 'Yay, Son-sama, they do…"

            Pan winced. "Call me Pan, sir, or at least Son Pan," she told him. The title 'Son-sama' just didn't suit her.

            Trunks recovered from his shock. "You can't go… you _just_ woke up," he protested. He then smirked and added, "Son-sama."

            She glared at him lightly. "I'm going, Trunks."

            Trunks laughed and stood, walking out of the room. "I'll go deal with the crowd-you _need_ to rest."

            "Did you hear me, Trunks Briefs Vegeta? When I say I'm going somewhere, _I'm going._"

            Trunks turned halfway to see Pan, who was struggling to stand. Her hand gripped the railing along side the hospital bed, pulling herself over so that her feet were hanging off the bed. Her teeth were clenched tightly in pain, though she tried hard not to show it.

            Trunks walked over to her, shaking his head slightly. "Look Pan, if you really want to go, I'll help."

            Pan froze and almost fell back down. "_What?_ You'll _help_? Did I hear you correctly?"

            "Count your lucky stars, Pan, because this is a once in a lifetime thing," Trunks said with a smirk or a smile, Pan couldn't tell.

            Trunks shook his head softly, sending his hair rippling around his face. Gently he picked her up with one hand under her knees, and the other under her upper-back. _Why am I taking her?_ He asked himself. He didn't have answer for that or the fact that his spirits lifted slightly when she was awake.

            Pan was shocked into silence for a few moments. "Trunks? Are you all right?"

            "Of course," was the self-assured reply.

            "Are you positive?" she questioned, tilting her hear slightly to look up at him.

            "Only fools are positive," he answered with a smirk.

            "You sure about that?" Pan asked him.

            "Positive."

            Pan snickered as Trunks sighed and dropped his head as he walked out of the hospital wing. " 'Son-sama', you are testing my patience," he grumbled.

            She grinned, ignoring the name. "Good. I was beginning to think something was wrong with you."

            As Trunks carried Pan down the hallway, Pan saw soldiers give her a small nod of respect, greeting both Trunks and herself. Surprised at their change of attitude, she blinked blankly at them.

            "You said I was innocent-who was the real assassin?" Pan asked, tilting her head slightly.

            "Doshen." That name made Trunks narrow his eyes in hate.

            "Doshen?! No way… I _knew_ I didn't like him for a reason… Natural instincts, I guess." She gave him a lopsided grin.

            Trunks didn't return the smile, face withering. "Yeah. Natural instincts." Looked like he didn't have them.

            Pan looked confused at his sudden change of attitude, wondering what had gone on while she had slept, and realizing that she'd never truly know. "You ok?" No answer. "…What happened?"

            "Nothing." The answer was harsh, and Pan was taken aback from it.

            "Liar." She poked his side with the hand that didn't have the broken arm, trying to lighten the mood. "Tell."

            "When you look at me, what do you see?" he suddenly asked.

            She blinked at the brazen question, but answered simply. "Trunks."

            He gritted his teeth angrily. "That's not what I meant."

            "But that's what I see." Understanding washed over her abruptly. This all started with the word 'natural'. Someone had probably accused him of not being natural; it was bound to happen some day. "Trunks, are you saiyan?" she asked.

            He looked away from her, stopping his feet. "My father asked me that."

            "Well, are you?" she pressed.

            Reluctantly, he answered. "…Yes."

            "Then why worry what others think?" she asked. "It doesn't matter what's out here-" she tapped his shoulder- "If you have what it takes in here." At that, she tapped his chest, his heart.

            Pan's words froze him, and numbly, without saying another word, he continued on down the halls.

            Trunks arrived at two large double doors-the doors out of the palace-and was about to open them when Pan halted him. "Wait."

            "What?" he asked, wondering if now she was too frightened to go out. There was a whole crowd of people wanting to see _her_ and her only.

            "Put me down."

            "_What?!_" Trunks exclaimed, incredulous.

            "Put me down," Pan answered him casually. "You know, on the ground?"

            Trunks blinked, then shook his head. "But… you're not strong enough…" he protested weakly.

            "I'm stronger then you think," Pan answered him indignantly. "Now put me down!"

            Trunks slowly let her feet touch he ground, still keeping his hand around her shoulders, as to make sure she could handle it. "You all right?" he asked her.

            "Of course I am," she snapped. When her feet first touched the floor, she found her footing quickly. "Now remove your hand."

            "All right…"

            As soon as Trunks removed his hand she gasped as her weight came crashing down upon her legs. Swaying on her feet she winced, trying to stay standing. She could feel her head pounding and her legs screaming in protest, but she willed herself to open the door.

            She was on top of a flight of white marbled steps, and at the bottom were hundreds-no-thousands of people, standing there. As soon as they saw her, they burst out into cheer.

            A chant began sweeping its way through the crowds, Pan watching with incredulous blinking eyes. "I… I…" she said, her voice no more then a whisper.

            Trunks laid a hand on her shoulder, careful to be gentle. "They're waiting for you," he said. "Now go talk to them."

            "_Me_?" Pan squeaked. "Talk to them?"

            Trunks chuckled slightly. "Yes. You're the one who wanted to come." The chanting finally reached his ears-they were chanting 'Son Pan.'

            Pan turned from Trunks to look out at the crowd, trying to gather courage she didn't have. "People of Vegeta-sei," she started.

            Trunks was standing right behind her. "Louder, Pan." She glanced to him, then back to the cheering crowd. "They're waiting…"

            "People of Vegeta-sei!" she cried. The crowd instantly silenced. She had their full attention now. _Great…_"You are my friends, my family, my people." Pan looked out at the sea of happy, grinning saiyans-a rare sight indeed-and gulped. They were all here for _her,_ to listen to _her_ words and watch what _she_ did. "I am honored to have your support and your respect. I just found out only a few moments ago that my name was cleared, and that a crowd of saiyans were waiting for _me._

            "I am still healing-as you can see-" the cuts on Pan's arms and the few gashes on her face spoke for themselves- "and it had brightened my spirits to see that so many saiyans are awaiting my return. I know now that my recovery will be a swift one with all of you backing me. Thank you." With a shaky hand, she made a fist a raised it, blocking out the pain that it caused her to do so. She felt her knees began to buckle, and her vision dampen. _No, I can't fall unconscious yet… not yet…_ Willing her body to stay and stand, she refocused her eyes at the crowd. They had mimicked her movements, their fists all raised as well. "For the glory of Vegeta!" she cried, pumping her fist into the air.

            The answer from the crowd was resounding, as they repeated her answer in a single, united voice. "_For the glory of Vegeta!"_

**Author's Note: ** Well, how'd ya like it? Was it what you expected? Hehe! Reviews, please!

And as always, _thank you!_

_"Do, or do not. There is no 'try.'"_

_~Yoda****_


	35. Author's Note:

**Author's Note:**

….Wow.

It's been an unbelievably long time since I've written anything for this fic… sorry? I don't really have an excuse, so I'm not going to try to create one. (I _did_ get a horse though—tee hee!)

Next chapter will be in construction, as long as I know there are still people out there willing to read the rest of this fic'. Drop a line—let me know you want me to continue!


	36. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

**Wow.**

**It's been a really, really long time.**

**I'm sure most of you—if any of the originals are still out there—would agree.**

**Looking back on the old chapters, I cringe at my writing—I hope my new style isn't too different from what you were used to. I may, in the distant future, go back and revamp them.**

**But who knows. Putting out this chapter is a landmark, for sure.**

**I think the actual ending to this fanfiction will be coming in the next months; I roughed out a chart of where this is going, so… no writer's block for me. For those of you who waited… I hope it's what you thought it would be.**

**There's so much for me to say right here that I know I'll forget things, so… yeah. I'll try to be brief.**

**Sorry for the years of waiting.**

**Sorry for typos… my typing is more careless these days.**

**I tried to keep the Pan/Trunks banter just the same as it used to be… so I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

**Well, you've waited long enough! Here's the real Chapter 34 (if you count my chapters, I missed a number. Wasn't too bright, back then).**

Chapter 34

Nightmares

* * *

As soon as Trunks guided her back through the mahogany doors, Pan's legs buckled out from beneath her, a surprised yelp slipping through her lips. Only by the grace of the Gods did Trunks catch her, the two of them tottering in the Fate of balance before he rooted his feet to the ground. 

"Happy now?" The prince grumbled to her. Silly girl—what had she been _thinking_? Oh, that's right.

She hadn't been.

"Very," she responded in her own cheeky manner, a tired swish of her tail accompanying it. She wasn't about to tell him how nervous she had been, nor how close she had come to falling down those marbled steps and looking like a complete fool. She was quite sure he knew without her broadcasting it.

Glancing to the saiyan prince, Pan took a quick scan of his features, noticing what she had otherwise missed in the confusion when she awoke. Seeing it now, she didn't know how she could have in the first place—it was hard for her to miss. There, misted in the corner of those ice-blue eyes of his, was guilt.

For her?

"What are you looking at?"

Trunks's words brought her out of her daze with a blink, and the young woman gave a shrug as she lied. "Dazed out." Kind of truthful, right? The crowd that had just chanted her name seemed to fade away, in lieu of her newfound information.

Everything made sense, now—like why he was helping her, and why the hold under her knees and shoulders was so light… apologetic, almost. Why he had been in her room; why his jabs weren't as caustic (and spoiled, might she add) as usual.

"You shouldn't have gotten up in the first place."  
"You of all people should know I do a lot of things I 'shouldn't have'." Pan couldn't help the slight giggle when he sighed, but it silenced quickly—broken ribs weren't fond of laughter. When his eyes flicked back to her at the silence, she saw it again.

"Just let me get you back to the infirmary in one piece."  
But for the life of her, Pan didn't know what to say to him. What _could_ she say? She couldn't think of a single thing that she could tell him that would ease an emotion such as that. 'It's not your fault' were words that would lose their impact before they even left her mouth, let alone the fact that he wouldn't believe them.

Pan fell silent as Trunks carried her through the palace, lost in her own thoughts. The fact that the Prince of all Saiyans was carrying her was one in particular that she still couldn't grasp. The public adored her—she, a commoner, a _female_ at that, had saved the lives of him, and their king. She had been accused of assassinations and then redeemed; she had been tortured, and now adored.

It was certainly too much for a tired, aching mind to handle, she decided, so for the moment her only defense was to shut it out.

oooooooooo

It didn't take long for Trunks to reach the infirmary, guards shifting to get out of his way. Walking into the room that was designated as hers, Trunks set the saiyan down gently on the mattress, noting that the sheets had already been changed in their absence. His cargo was treated gingerly—Pan hadn't stayed awake for the entirety of the trip, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake her. She needed to recover; every ounce of sleep and rest was priceless.

The Prince's eyes softened when he looked to the features of her face. The visage was pale, but the color and life that he had come to associate with her were beginning in their slow return. It was humorous how calm she looked at the moment, her dark eyes closed with a light touch—he knew she could be a goddamn fireball, when she wanted.

Hesitating for a moment, Trunks then brought the covers over her form, letting the white-washed sheets settle softly on her. She'd sleep well, now—better, perhaps, now that she knew her name was cleared, and that her king and himself were alive and walking.

He had gone through his own personal hell—that he was sure of. But he wasn't about to classify what it was that _she_ had gone through.

_Get some rest, you stubborn woman._ With a soft pat to her wrist, Trunks turned and exited the room, guards flanking him as he left.

oooooooooo

Days passed in a whirlwind. There was so much for Trunks to wrap his head around that the prince left the issue of 'natural' alone. A gruff apology had been made to his mother, and though it didn't completely patch things up, it left both members feeling better.

There were doctor visits and paper work and issues and meetings and who knew what else, but no one questioned when the prince made time to go down and check on Son Pan. Even Vegeta had been caught in the girl's presence once or twice. Neither of the two would admit it, but both were utterly indebt to the young woman that had been so battered on the behalf of their safety. They had questions to ask, but it seemed that they always caught Son Pan whilst she was asleep.

No one could blame her in that she wouldn't speak to most of the guards.

It had been one of 'those' days when Trunks had found his way into Pan's room in the Infirmary late at night, the prince seated on a chair next to her bedside. Her even breathing was soothing when he day had been everything but, and with his head tilted back and eyes focused on the ceiling, the young man began to relax.

_What a day._

In the quiet of the room, Pan was the only thing for a saiyan's keen senses to pay attention to. So when her breathing picked up, the male lifted his head and turned to peer at her, eyes glancing to the computers to make sure everything was alright. With that confirmed he glanced back to the tense features on her face, and slowly his brow drew up in realization.

A nightmare.

He didn't know why he did it—hell, he didn't even know that he did it in the first place—but his hand reached out, and of it's own accord landed on the back of Pan's hand. A callused thumb soothed the skin there, Trunks not even wanting to guess what her nightmares could be about.

The male sat there for a few minutes, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand and wrist. When he finally snapped to his senses and realized what he was doing, the prince retracted his hand quickly, blue eyes sweeping the area to make sure no one had saw. What the hell had _that_ been all about? Checking for doctors he peered out the door—good.

"Trunks?"

The man was so on edge he practically jumped out of his seat, the man whirling to face the young woman that was now sitting up in her bed, staring at him questioningly. "…Hey Pan."

…Real smooth.

When did she wake up, anyway?

"…What were you doing?" she asked him—not cautiously; more curiosity then anything else. He could see that by the way she held her wrist, she had felt _something_.

Damnit.

"I…" Trunks racked his brain for a good excuse, because even he didn't know the answer. He wasn't going soft, that was for damn sure. He just felt… bad for her, yeah. That sounded a little better in his head, at least.

"You what?"

Trunks opened his mouth to answer, but he didn't have a chance to say anything else before their world, and everyone else's in the palace, was thrown into pitch black darkness.

And this stunt was all too familiar to the Saiyan prince.

* * *

**Author's Note: So do you enjoy it? These last couple of chapters are going to be pretty fast-paced… so hang in for the ride.**

**Review, please! I need to know if all of my reader's didn't fall off the face of the earth. XD And if you guys like how I write. It's... different. XD  
**

**As always, thank you guys so much!**


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